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Jl f ale OK THE RICE LAKE PLAINS. UY CATHARINE PARR TRAILL, AtJTHOEESS OF " THB BACKWOODS OS CANADA," KIC. EDITED BY AGNES STRICKLAND. ILLUSTRATED BY HARVEY, LONDON : ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE, & CO. 25, PATERNOSTER ROW. 1852. 264132 ^ ^'^Ar, p^j^j^^^ B«BAD STREET WUl. J 4132 DEDICATED TO THE CHILDREN OF THE SETTLERS ON THE RICE LAKE PLAINS, BY THEIR FAITIirUL FRIEND AND WELL-WISUER THE AUTHORESS. Oaklamds, Rice Lake, \r)fh Oct. isr.O. w PREFAC K. It will be acknowledged that human sym- pathy irresistibly responds to any narrative, founded on truth, which graphically describes the struggles of isolated human beings to obtain the aliments of life. The distinctions of pride and rank sink into nought, when the mind is engaged in the contemplation of the inevitable consequences of the assaults of the gaunt enemies, cold and hunger. Accidental circum- stances have usually given sufficient experience of their pangs, even to the most fortunate, to make them own a fellow-feeling with those whom the chances of shipwreck, war, wan- h VI iMMUwri:. tiering', ov revolutions liiivc cut oft' from lionic and hearth, and the requisite supplies ; not only from the thousand artificial comforts whicli civilized society classes among the necessaries of life, hut actually from a sufficiency of " daily bread." Where is the man, woman, or child who lias not sympathised with the poor seaman before the mast, Alexander Selkirk, typified by the genius of Defoe as his inimitable Crusoe, whose name (although one by no meana uncommon in middle life in the east of England,) has become synonymous for all who build and plant in a wilderness, "cut off" from humanity's reach?" Our insular situation has chiefly drawn the attention of the inhabitants of Great Britain to casualties by sea, and the deprivations of indi- viduals wrecked on some desert coast ; but it is by no means generally known that scarcely a summer passes over the colonists in Canada, without losses of children from the families of nJ. i phkk.uk. Vll off from Jionic supplies; not comforts wliicli the necessaries iency of ' daily child who has seaman before q^ified by the Crusoe, whose uncommon in ,) has become »d plant in a ity's reach?'" drawn the !it Britain to ions of indi- tst ; but it is t scarcely a in Canada, families of iettlers occurring iu the vast forests of the backwoods, similar to that on which the narra- tive of the Canadian Crusoes is founded. Many persons thus lost have perished in the wiklerness ; and it is to impress on the memory file natural resources of this country, by the fiid of interesting the imagination, that the author of the well-known and popular Avork, *' The Backwoods of Canada," has written the following pages. She has drawn attention, in the course of this volume, to the practical solution* of that provoking enigma, which seems to perplex all anxious wanderers in an unknown land, namely, that finding themselves, at the end of a day's toilsome march, close to the spot from which they set out in the morning, and that this cruel accident will occur for days in succession. The escape of Captain O'Brien from his French prison at Verdun, detailed with such spirit in his * See Appendix A ; likevviae p. 310. • • • vm PKEFACK. I 'I I i: V 7 «og.ap,.,.ofc remarkable instances *- propensity of the forlorn wanderer in a TZ '• ^ '""'''-'^^ -'<»-* i -corded .the narrative of the .^ Escape of a l::i ^^^"^^ ««- fro. the depat nea ^yr^ tr *^^ Napoleon Lpc: I'tof!:,'^'"^^''*'-^'"'^''* -''>■•" had fled ,n the n,orni„g, after taking fhntless -uW walks of t.ent,.iles. I dolt r et^e<.„seofs„ch m either narrative; Derhanc fi e eat res and landmarks of a country, in that reason always travel in a circle infeir, , ;»^'n. a«ves at „i,ht in t^ from which the, started in the morning. ' •^ PREFACE. IX We instances nderer in a incident is iscape of a 3ep6t near European ght within which he ? fruitless not recol- explained fr'equent 3SS back' know- s of the fnowiriff o try, in- and for falliblj y spot I Tlie resources and natural productions of the tioble colony of Canada are but superficially known. An intimate acquaintance with its rich vegetable and animal productions is most effectually made under the high pressure of difficulty and necessity. Our writer has striven to interest children, or rather young people approaching the age of adolescence, in the natural history of this country, simply by showing them how it is possible for children to make the best of it when thrown into a state of destitution as forlorn as the wanderers on the Kice Lake Plains. Perhaps those who would not care for the berry, the root, and the grain, as delineated and classified technically in books of science, might remember their uses and proper- ties when thus brought practically before their notice as the aliments of the famishing fellow- creature, with whom their instinctive feelings must perforce sympathise. When parent? who have left home comforts and all the ties of PREFACE. gentle kindred for the r]p.. i ^ P^^ce them I'r. -dependent poaition, it ie ^ell V ' "" ""nd« are prepared with T '' ^°""^ -hattheyaretoiindin"^ '""'^'^^'= «^ -™-. *^e c t tr:r" ''- P-d .rti. over that ..-de C ''^^''"•'■- i -^Jie previous work nf r^ - I J^ne Backwoodcj nPn i ^^«- J-raill, . v^rooas oi Canada, by the Wv ^ Emigi-ant Officer " >. i^i- , '^^ ^^^^^ Knowledge ha, „. j , ^ "^ ^^f<^i ge, jias passed through manv .^v and enioved /»„ ^ editions, joyed, (anonymous though it w, ^ -d;apop„,arit,asasta„dardl;,r"" »-l *o dwell on it, f^her thlrJ " ^'^ the present is written i„ le ""^ '"' «''--ng style, with the sal T '^'"'' ~P«ainin, spirit, altho^m 7 T sweet and gentle n .u ^^^ ^^^ -'Pect to do who ventures rUEFACE. XI s of their rising ^"^ in a more if those young knowledge of id country; the and even the ful Creator has r, Mrs. Traill, he Wife of an ^ years since ^ of Useful any editions, was,) too k for me to *o say that ame nawe, odesty and ^ has the as every ventures t0 encounter the lot of a colonist. She lias now devoted her further years of experience as a settler to the information of the younger class of colonists, to open their minds and interest them in the productions of that rising country, which will one day prove the mightiest adjunct of the ipland empire ; our nearest, our soundest colony, unstained with the cormption of convict popu- lation ; where families of ger tie blood need fear no real disgrace in their alliance; where nu one need beg, and where any one may dig- without being ashamed. 1 ■I LIST OF engiuv;ngs. ■ M r.OUIs CONIESSINO HIS DECEPTION OF CATHARINE .... "^22 The First Breakfast . .„ 40 Catharine found by the Old Dog gg Wolf finding the Wounded Doe 120 Hector bringing the Indian Girl 1^4 Killing Wild Fowl . j„„ Indian Woman at the Door of the Hut 263 Catharine carried off 27o Indiana before the Bald Eagle 320 Indiana at the Stake 32^ Attack on the Deer . . . , .... Jrfo Rexurk Home THE CANADIAN CEUS0E8. CHAPTER I. " The morniug had shot her bright streamers ou high, O'er Canada, opening all pale to the sky ; Still dazzling and white .was the robe that she wore, Except where the ocean wave lash'd on the shore." Jacobite Song. Thepe lies between the Rice Lake and the Ontario, a deep and fertile valley, surrounded by lofty wood-crowned hills, the heights of which were clothed chiefly with groves of oak and pine, though the sides of the hills and the alluvial bottoms gave a variety of noble timber trees of various kinds, as the maple, beech, hemlock, and others. This beautiful and highly picturesque valley is watered by many clear streams of pure refreshing water, from whence the spot has derived its appropriate appellation of " Cold Springs." B THE CANADIAN CliUSOES. At the time my little lilstoiy commences, this now highly cultivated spot was an unbroken wilderness, — all hut two small farms, where dwelt the only occupiers of the soil, — which owned no other possessors than the wandering hunting tribes of Avild Indians, to whom the right of the hunting grounds north of Kicc Lake appertained, according to their forest laws. To those who travel over beaten roads, now partially planted, among cultivated fields and flowery orchards, and see cleared farms and herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, the change would be a striking one. I speak of the time when the neat and flourishing town of Cobourg, now an important port on the Ontario, was but a village in embryo — if it contained even a log- house or a block-house it was all that it did, and the wild and picturesque ground upon which the fast increasing village of Port Hope is situated, had not yielded one forest tree to the axe of the settler. No gallant vessel spread her sails to waft the abundant produce of grain and Canadian stores along the waters of that noble sheet of water ; no steamer had then furrowed its bosom with her iron wheels, bear- ing the stream of emigration towards the wilds of our Northern and Western forests, there to render a lonely trackless desert a fruitful garden. THE CANADIAN' C11U80ES. ncc9, tills uu"brokcu where IS, I, — wliicli wandering wlioni the nice Lake hvAVS. roads, now ficlds and farms and the change of the time of Cohourg, rio, was hut even a log- hat it did, omrd upon Port Hope )rest tree to vessel spread uce of grain aters of that had then aieels, hear- rds the wilds -sts, there to uitful garden. er »v "What will not tip^"* and the industry of man, assisted by tlic blessing of a merciful God, effect ? To liim he tlic glory and honour; for we arc taught that " without the Lord huild the city, their labour is but lost that build it ; with- out tlic Lord keep the city, the watchman Avaketh but in vain." But to my tale. And first it will be necessary » to introduce to the acquaintance of my young I readers the founders of our little settlement at ' Cold Springs. I Duncan Maxwell was a young Highland soldier, a youth of eighteen, at the famous battle of Quebec, where, though only a private, he received the praise of his colonel for his brave conduct. At the close of the battle Duncan was wounded, and as the hospital was full at the time with sick and disabled men, he ^ was lodged in the house of a poor French Canadian w4dow in the Quebec suburb; here, though a foreigner and an enemy, he received much kind attention from his excellent hostess and her family, which consisted of a young man about his own age, and a pretty black-eyed lass not more than sixteen. The widow Perron was so much occupied with other lodgers — for she kept a sort of boarding-house — that she had not much time to give to Duncan, so that he was THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. « left a great deal lo \qv son Pierre, and a little to Catharine, her daughter. Duncan Maxwell was a fine, open-tempered, frank lad, and he soon won the regard of Pierre and his little sister. In spite of the prejudices of country, and the difference of language and national customs, a steady and increasing friend- ship grew up hetwecn the young Highland! '^"- and the children of his hostess ; therefore it was not without feelings of deep regret that they heard the news, that the corps to which Duncan he- longed was ordered for embarkation to England, and Duncan was so far convalescent as to he pronounced quite well enough to join them. Alas for poor Catharine ! she now found that parting with her patient was a source of the deepest sorrow to her yoiuig and guileless heart ; nor was Duncan less moved at the separation from his gentle nurse. It might he for years, and it might be for ever, he could not tell; but he could not tear himself away without telling the object of his affections how dear she was to liiui, and to whisper a hope that he might yet return one day to claim her as his bride; and Catharine, weeping and blushing, promised to wait for that happy day, or to remain single for his sake, while Pierre promised to watch over his friend's interests and keep alive Catharine's \ THE CANADIAN CRUSOKS. 5 a little to tcmpcvccl, of Pierre cjutliccs of .•uage and ing fricnd- ilaii'^'^"* and it was not they heard 3uncan be- to England, it as to he join them, found that urcc of the leless heart; e separation jc for years, Id not tell; vay without LOW dear she lat he might s his "bride; ng, promised emain single to watch over e Catharine's love ; for, said lie, artles^sly, " la helle Catrino ifi pretty and lively, and may liave many suitors hcfon; slie sees you again, mon ami." They say tlie course of true love never did run smooth ; hut, with tlie exception of this great sorrow, the sorrow of separation, the love of our young Iligliland soldier and his hetrothed knew no otlier interruption, for ahsence served only to strengthen tlie affection which was founded on gratitude and esteem. Two long years passed, however, and the prospect of re-union Avas yet distant, when an accident, which disabled Duncan from serving his country, enabled him to retire with the usual little pension, and return to Quebec to seek liis affianced. Some changes had taken place during that short period: the widow Perron was dead; Pierre, the gay, lively-hearted Pierre, was married to the daughter of a lum- berer ; and Ca' Arinc, who had no relatives in Quebec, had gone up the country with her brother and his wife, and was living in some little settlement above Montreal with them. Thither Duncan, with the constancy of his nature, followed, and shortly afterwards was married to his faithful Catharine. On one point they had never differed, both being of the same religion. 6 THE CANADIAN CHU80ES. Pierre had neen a good deal of the fine country on the MJiore.s of tlie Ontario ; he liad Lecn hunting with some friendly Indiana between the great water.s and the llice Lake, nnd he novv tliought if Duncan and liimself could make up tlicir minds to a quiet life in the woods, there was not a better spot than the hill pass between the plains and the big lake to fix themselves upon. Duncan was of the same opinion when he saw the spot. It was not rugged and bare like his own Highlands, but softer in character, yet his heart yearned for the hill country. In those days there was no obstacle to taking possession of any tract of land in the unsurveyed forests, therefore Duncan agreed with his brother-in-law to pioneer the way w^ith him, get a dwelling put up and some ground prepared and " seeded down," and then to return for their wives and settle themselves down at once as farmers. Others had suc- ceeded, had formed little colonies, and become the heads of villages in due time ; why should not they? And now behold our two back- woodsmen fairly commencing their arduous life; but it was nothing, after all, to Pierre, by previous occupation a hardy lumberer, or the Scottish soldier, accustomed to brave all sorts of hardships in a wild country, himself a moun- Tin: CANADIAN fUL'SOE.S. llic fine he had TiuViaiiS ce T.ake, liimself ifc in the 1 the hill ke to fix the same ; wan not lands, hut iarnccl for JVC was no y tract of »re Duncan >ionccr the and some " and then themselves had siic- nd hccome ;hy should two hack- L'duouslife; Pierre, hy ■rer, or the re all sorts elf a moun- ;v taiiicor, inured to a stormy climate, and scanty fare, from his earliest youtli. Hut it is not my intention to dwell upon tlie trials and dilhculties courageously met and battled with by our set- tlers and tlieir young wives. There was in those days a spirit of resistance among tlie first settlers on the soil, a spirit to do and hear, that is less commonly met with now. The spirit of civilization is now so widely dif- fused, that her comforts are felt even in the depths of the forest, so that the newly come emigrant feels comparatively few of the physical evils tliat were endured hy the older inhabitants. The first seed-wheat tliat was cast into the ground by Duncan and Pierre, was brought with infinite trouble a distance of fifty miles in a little skiff, navigated along the shores of the Ontario by the adventurous Pierre, and from the nearest landing-place transported on the shoulders of himself and Duncan to their home- stead : — a day of gi-eat labour but great joy it was when they deposited tlieir precious freight in safety on the shanty floor. They were obliged to make two journeys for tlie contents of the little craft. What toil, what privation they endured for the first two years ! and now the fruits of it began slowly to appear. No two creatures could be more unlike than Pierre 8 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. md Duncan. The Iliglilandcr, stern, steady, pcrsevernig, cautious, always giving ample reasons for his doiiig or liis not doing. The Canadian, hopeful, lively, fertile in expedients, and gay as a lark ; if one scheme failed another was sure to present itself. Pierre and Duncan were admirably suited to be friends and neigh- bours. The steady perseverance of the Scot helped to temper the volatile temperament of the Frenchman. They generally contrived to compass the same end by different means, as two streams descending from opposite hills will meet in one broad river in tlie same valley. Years passed on ; the farm, carefully cultivated, began to yield its increase, and food and warm clothing were not wanted in the homesteads. Catharine had become, in course of time, the happy mother of four healthy children ; her sistev- in-law had even exceeded her in these welcome contributions to the population of a new colony. Between the children of PieiTC and Catharine the most charming harmony prevailed ; they grew up as one family, a pattern of affection and early friendship. Though different in tempers and dispositions, Hector IMaxwell, the eldest son of the Scottish soldier, and his cousin, young Louis Perron, were greatly attached; they, with the you Catharine and Mathilde, formed a THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 9 1, steady, 12: ample 'to 112:. The xpedients, id anotlier d Duncan „nd neigli- ' the Scot irament of )ntrivcd to means, as c hills will -alley, cultivated, and warm lomesteads. f time, the ; her sistev- ;se welcome lew colony. lI Catharine liled; they of affection lifferent in Maxwell, the I his cousin, iched; they, lIc, formed a little coterie of inseparables ; their amusements, tastes, pursuits, occupations, all blended and harmonized delightfully ; there were none of tliose little envyings and bickerings among them that pave the way to strife and disunion in after life. Catharine Maxwell and lier cousin Louis were more like brother and sister than Hector and Catharine, but Mathilde was gentle and dove-like, and formed a contrast to the gravity of Hector and the vivacity of Louis and Catharine. Hector and Louis were fourteen — strong, vigor- ous, industrious and hardy, both in constitution and habits. The girls were turned of twelve. It is not with Mathilde that our story is con- nected, but with the two lads and Catharine. With the gaiety and naivete of the French- woman, Catharine possessed, when occasion called it into action, a thoughtful and well- regulated mind, abilities which would well have repaid the care of mental cultivation; but of book-learning she knew nothing beyond a little reading, and that but imperfectly, acquired from her father's teacliing. It was an accomplish- ment which he had gained when in the army, having been taught by his colonel's son, a lad of twelve years of age, who had taken a great fancy to him, and had at parting given him 10 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. a few of Ills school-books, among wliich was a Testament, without cover or title-page. At part- ing, the young gentleman recommended its daily perusal to Duncan. Had the gift been a Bible, per- haps the soldier's obedience to his priest might have rendered it a dead letter to him, but as it fortunately happened, he was unconscious of any prohibition to deter him from becoming acquainted with the truths of the Gospel. He communicated the power of perusing his books to his children Hector and Catharine, Duncan and Kenneth, in succession, with a feeling of intense reverence; even the labour of teaching was regarded as a holy duty in itself, and was not undertaken without deeply impressing the obligation he was conferring upon them when- ever they were brought to the task. It was indeed a precious boon, and the children learned to consider it as the pearl beyond all price in the trials that awaited them in their eventful career. To her knowledge of religious truths young Catharine added an intimate acquaint- ance with the songs and legends of her father's romantic country, which was to her even as fairyland; often would her plaintive ballads and old tales, related in the hut or the wigwam to her attentive auditors, wile away heavy thoughts; Louis and Mathilde, her cousms. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 11 ch wag a At part- l its daily Bil»le,per- est miglit "but as it iscious of l)CComing )f;pel. He liis "books le, Duncan feeling of of teaeliing i', and was ressing tlie liem Avlien- ,k. It was .ren learned all price in • eventful jious truths e acquaint- hcr father's iier even as ive hallads ;lie wigwam Avay heavy ler cousins, sometimes wondered how Catharine had ac- quired such a store of ballads and wild tales as she could tell. It was a lovely sunny day in the flowery month of June ; Canada had not only doifed that '' dazzling white robe " mentioned in the songs of her Jacobite emigrants, but had as- sumed the beauties of her loveliest season, the last week in May and the first three of June being parallel to the English May, full of buds and flowers and fair promise of ripening fruits. The high sloping hills surrounding the fertile vale of Cold Springs were clothed witli tlie blossoms of the gorgeous scarlet enchroma, or painted-cup ; the large pure white blossoms of the lily-like trillium ; the delicate and fragile lilac geranium, whose graceful flowers woo the hand of the flower-gatherer only to fade almost within his grasp; the golden cyprepedium, or mocassin flower, so singular, so lovely in its colour and formation, waved heavily its yellow blossoms as the breeze shook the stems ; and tliere, mingling with a thousand various floral beauties, the azure lupine claimed its place, shedding almost a heavenly tint upon the earth. Thousands of roses were blooming on the more level ground, sending forth their rich fragrance, mixed with the delicate scent of the feathery 12 THE CANADIAN CIlUSOES. ceanotliiis, (Xcw Jersey tea.) The vivid green- ness of the young leaves of the forest, the tender tint of the springing corn, were contrasted with the deep dark fringe of waving pines on tlie hills, and the yet darker shade of the spruce and balsams on the borders of the creeks, for so our Canadian forest rills are universally termed. The bright glancing wings of the summer red- bird, the crimson-headed woodpecker, the gay blue-bird, and noisy but splendid plumed jay, might be seen among the branches ; the air was filled with beauteous sights and soft murmuring melodies. Under the shade of the luxuriant hop-vines, that covered the rustic porch in front of the little dwelling, the light step of Catharine ]\Iaxwell might be heard inixed with the drowsy whirring of the big wheel, as she passed to and fro guiding the thread of yarn in its course : and now she sang snatclies of old mountain songs, such as she had learned from her father ; and now, with livelier air, hummed some gay French tunc to the household melody of her spinning wheel, as she advanced and retreated with her thread, unconscious of the laughing black eje that was watching her movements from among the embowering foliage that shielded her from the morning sun. " Come, ma belle cousine," for so Louis THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 13 ivid grecn- , tlie teiuler | vastcd with | ines on the | the spruce reeks, for so ally termed, iimmer red- der, the gay phimed jay, ; the air was •t murmuring he luxuriant Dorch in front , of Catharine th the drowsy passed to and s course : and untain songs, ^r father; and ne gay French her spinning ,atcd with her ing black eye s from among Ided her from for so Louis dcHgiitcd to call her. " ITcctor and I arc waiting for you to go with us to the ' Beaver Meadow.' Tlic cattle have strayed, and we think we shall find them there. The day is delicious, the very flowers look as if they wanted to be admired and plucked, and we shall find early strawberries on the old Indian clearing." Catharine cast a longing look abroafl, but said, " I fear, Louis, I cannot go to-day, for see, I have all these rolls of wool to spin up, and my yarn to wind off the reel and twist ; and then, my mother is away." " Yes, I left her with mamma," replied Louis, " and she said she would l)e home shortly, so her absence need not stay you. She said you could take a baffket and try and bring home some berries for sick Louise. Hector is sure he knows a spot w^hcrc we sliall get some fine ones, ripe and red." As he spoke Louis whisked away the big wheel to one end of the porch, gathered up the hanks of yarn and tossed them into the open wicker basket, and tlie next minute the large;, coar&e, flapped straw hat, that hung upon the peg in the porch, was stuck not very gi-acefully on the top of Catharine's head and tied beneath her chin, with a merry rattling laugh, which drowned effectually the small i 14 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. lecture tliat Catliaviue began to utter, l)y way of reproving the liglit-liearted boy. *' But where is Mathikle? " '^ Sitting like a dear good girl, as she is, with siek Louise's head on her lap, and would not dif^turb the poor sick thing for all the fruit and flowers in (>anada. Marie cried sadly to go with us, but I promised her and petite Louise lots of flowTrs and berries if we get them, and the dear children were as happy as queens when I left them." " But stay, cousin, you are sure my mother gave her consent to my going ? We shall be away chief part of the day. You know it is a long walk to the Beaver Meadow and back agiiin," said Catharine, hesitating as Louis took her hand to lead her out from the porch. " Yes, yes, ma belle," said the giddy boy, (^ -ckly ; " so come along, for Hector is waiting at the barn ; but stay, we shall be hungry before we return, so let us have some cakes and butter, and do not forget a tin-cup for water." Nothing doubting, Catharine, with, buoyant spirits, set abc't her little preparations, whicli were soon completed; but just as she was leaving the little garden enclosure, she ran back to kiss Kenneth and Duncan, her young brothers. In THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 15 or, hy way she is, with [ wouhl not the fruit and sadly to go )etite Louise 't them, and queens when re my mother "V\7"e shall he ,u know it is ow and hack as Louis took oorch. e giddy hoy, ;tor is waiting 11 he hungry some cakes tin-cup for ir h with huoyant •ations, whicli c was leaving l)ack to kisri l)rothers. Ill the farm yard she found Hector with liis axe on his shoukler. " What are you taking the axe for, Hector? you will iind it heavy to carry," said his sister. " Li the first place, I have to cut a stick of hlue-becch to make a hroom for sweeping tlic house, sister of mine ; and that is for your use, ^liss Kate ; and in the next place, I have to find, if possible, a piece of rock elm or hiccory for axe handles ; so now you liavc the reason why I take the axe with me." Tlie children now left the clearing, and struck ^ into one of the deep defiles that lay between ! tlie hills, and cheerfully they laughed and sung ^ and chattered, as they sped on their pleasant path; nor were they loth to exchange the glow- I ing sunshine for the sober gloom of the forest isliade. What lumdfuls of flowers of all hues, I red, blue, yellow and white, were gathered only to be gazed at, carried for a while, then cast 1 aside for others fresher and fairer. And now they came to cool rills that flowed, softly mur- muring, among mossy limestone, or blocks of ji'cd or grey granite, wending their way beneatli wisted roots and fallen trees ; and often atharine lingered to watch the eddying dim- )les of the clear water, to note the tiny bright ragments of quartz or crystallized limestone 10 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. that formed a shining pavement below the stream ; and often she paused to watch the angry movements of tlic red squirrel, as, with feathery tail erect, and sliarp scolding note, he crossed their woodland path, and swiftly darting u]) the rugged bark of some neighbouring pine or hemlock, bade the intruders on his quiet haunts defiance; yet so bold in his indignation, he scarcely condescended to ascend beyond their reach. The long-continued hollow tapping of the large red-headed woodpecker, or the singular subterranean sound caused by the drumming of the partridge,* striking his wings upon his breast to woo his gentle mate, and the soft whispering note of the little tree-creeper, as it flitted from one hemlock to another, collecting its food between the fissures of the bark, were among the few sounds that broke the noontide stillness of the woods ; but to all such sights and sounds the lively Catharine and her cousin were not indifferent. And often they wondered that Hector gravely pursued his onward way, and seldom lingered as they did to mark the bright colours of the flowers, or the bright sparkling of the forest rill. " What makes Hecso grave?" said Catharine to her companion, as they seated themselves THE CANADIAN CRUS0E3. 17 "below tlic h tlie angry | ith feathery | he crossed . 'ting np tlic [ig pine or f^uict haunts ignation, he jeyond their ping of the the singular drumming ot pen his breast ft whispering flitted from its food were among ntide stillness s and sounds isin were not ondered that d way, and u-k the bright it sparkling of said Catharine id themselves m ar upon a mossy trunk, to await his coming up, for tlicy had giddily cliased cacli other till they liad far outrun him. " Hector, sweet coz, is thinking perhaps of how man;y bushels of corn or wheat this land would grow if cleared, or he may be examining the soil or the trees, or is looking for his stick of blue-beech for your broom, or tlie hiccory for his axe handle, and never heeding such non- sense as woodpeckers and squirrels, and lilies and moss and ferns, for Hector is not a giddy thing like his cousin Louis, or — " a " His sister Kate," interrupted Catharine, merrily ; " but when shall we come to the , Beaver Meadow?" I " Patience, ma belle, all in good time. Hark, was not that the ox- bell? No; Hector whistling." And soon they heard the heavy stroke of his axe ringing among the trees, for he had found the blue-beech, and was cutting it to leave on the path, that he might take it home on their return; he had also marked some hiccory of a nice size for his axe handles, to "bring home at some future time. The children had walked several miles, and were not sorry to sit down and rest till Hector joined them. He was well pleased with his success, and declared he felt no fatigue. " As C 18 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. soon as we rcacli tlie old Indian clearing, we shall find Htrawberries," he said, " and a fresh cold spring, and then we will have our dinners." " Come, Hector, — come, Louis," said Catha- rine, jumping up, " I long to be gathering the strawben-ies ; and see, my flowers arc faded, so I will throw them away, and the basket shall be filled with fresh fruit instead, and we must not forget petite IMaric and sick Louise, or dear Mathilde. Ah, how I wish she were here at this minute ! But here is the opening to the Beaver Meadow." And the sunlight was seen streaming through the opening trees as they approached the cleared space, which some called the " Indian clearing," but is now more generally known as the little Beaver Meadow. It was a pleasant spot, green, and sari'ounded with light bowery trees and flowering shrubs, of a different growtli from those that belong to the dense forest. Here the children found, on the hilly ground above, fine ripe strawberries, the earliest they had seen that year, and soon all weariness was forgotten while pursuing the delightfv^i occupation of gathering the tempting fruit ; and when they had refreshed themselves, and filled the basket with leaves and fruit, they slaked their thirst THE CANADIAN CUUSOES. 19 I cleaving, c\, " aiitl a [I have our i said Catha- itliering tlic arc faded, [ the basket tead, and we sick Louise, isli slie were tlie opening ming tlirougli proaclied tlie the "Indian Uy known as as a pleasant light howery fferent growth e forest. Here ground ahove, they had seen was forgotten occupation of Ind when they lied the basket :ed their thirst from the stream, which wound its way among the husliCH. Catharine neglected not to reach down flowery bunches of the fragrant white- thorn and of tlic high-bush cranberry, then ra- diant with nodding umbels of snowy blossoms, or to wreaih the handle of the little basket with the graceful trailing runners of the lovely twin- flowered plant, the Linna^a borealis, which she always said reminded her of the twins, Louise and Marie, her little cousins. And now the day began to wear away, for they had lingered long in the little clearing; they had wandered from the path by which they entered it; and had neglected, in their eagerness to look for the strawberries, to notice any particular mark by which they might regain it. Just when they began to think of returning, Louis noticed a beaten path, where there seemed recent prints of cattle hoofs on a soft spongy soil beyond the creek. " Come, Hector," said he gaily, " this is hicky ; wc are on the cattle path ; no fear but it will lead us directly home, and that by a nearer track." Hector was undecided about following it, lie :iaiicied it bent too much towards the setting sun ; but his cousin overruled his objection. " And is not this our own creek?" he said; " I have 20 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. often heard my father say it had its rise some- where about this old clearing/' Hector now thought Louis might be right, and they boldly followed the path among the poplars and thorns and bushes that clothed its banks, surprised to see how open the ground became, and how swift and clear the stream swept onward. *' Oh, this dear creek," cried the delighted Catharine, "how pretty it is! I shall often follow its course after this ; no doubt it has its source from our own Cold Springs." And so they cheerfully pursued their way, till the sun, sinking behind the range of westerly hills, soon left them in gloom ; but they anxiously hurried forward when the stream wound its noisy way among steep stony banks, clothed scantily with pines and a few scattered silver-barked poplars. And now they became bewildered by two paths leading in opposite directions ; one upward among the rocky hills, the other through the opening gorge of a deep ravine. Here, overcome with fatigue, Catharine seated herself on a large block of granite, near a great bushy pine that grew beside the path by the ravine, unable to proceed ; and Hector, with a grave and troubled countenance, stood beside her, looking round with an air of great per- rise some- l3C riglit, imong the lat clothed the ground the stream 3 delighted shall often t it has its their way, p of westerly jy anxiously md its noisy led scantily ilver-harked wildered by ctions ; one ther through liarine seated near a great path by the ector, with a stood beside Df great per- 4 -,nuJo C.NtE.yiN,) lUo UKCKVTION OF CAItlAIUNiO .* i^ 1: THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 21 plexity. Louis, seating himself at Catharine's feet, surveyed the deep gloomy valley before them, and sighed heavily. The conviction had now forcibly struck him that they had mistaken the path altogether. The very aspect of the country was different ; the growth of the trees, the flow of the stream, all indicated a change of soil and scene. Darkness was fast drawing its impenetrable veil around them ; a few stars were stealing out, and gleaming down as if with pitying glance upon the young wanderers ; but they could not light up their pathway, or point their homeward track. The only sound, save the lulling murmur of the rippling stream below, was the plaintive note of the whip-poor-will, from a gnarled oak that grew near them, and the harsh grating scream of the night hawk, darting about in the higher regions of the air, pursuing its noisy congeners, or swooping down with that peculiar hollow rushing sound, as of a person blowing into some empty vessel, when it seizes with wide-extended bill its insect prey. Hector was the first to break the silence. " Cousin Louis, we were wrong in followin^q- the course of the stream ; I fear we shall never find our way back to-night." Louis made no reply ; his sad and subdued air failed not to attract the attention of his cousins. 22 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I I " Why, Louis, how is this ? you are not used to be cast down by difficulties," said Hector, as he marked something like tears glistening in the dark eyes of his cousin. Louis's heart was full, he did not reply, but cast a troubled glance upon the weary Catharine, who leaned heavily against tlie tree beneath which she sat. " It is not," resuiiicd Hector, " that I mind passing a summer's night under such a sky as this, and with such a dry grassy bed below me ; but I do not think it is good for Catharine to sleep on the bare ground in the night dews, — and then they will be so anxious at home about our absence." Louis burst into tears, and sobbed out, — "And it is all my doing that she came out with us ; I deceived her, and my slv*^ will be angry and much alarmed, lor she d- ; not know of her going at all. Dear Catiiar* le, gocd cousin Hector, pray forgive me!" But Catharine was weeping too much to reply to his passionate entreaties, and Hector, who never swerved from the truth, for which he had almost a stern re- verence, hardly repressed his indignation at what appeared to him a most culpable act of deceit on the part of Louis. The sight of her cousin's grief and self-abase- THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 23 3 not used Hector, as stening in reply, but Catliarine, ee beneath lat I mind ;li a sky as "below me ; ktharine to rht dews, — IS at liome out,— "And )ut with us ; angry and now of her ^ocd cousin atharine was passionate werved from a stern re- iition at what of deceit on d self-abase- ment touched the tender heart of Catharine, for she was kind and dove-like in her disposition, and loved Louis, with all his faults. Had it not been for the painful consciousness of the grief their unusual absence would occasion at home, Catharine would have thought nothing of their present adventure ; but she could not endure the idea of her high-principled father taxing her with deceiving her kind indulgent mother and him : it was this humiliating thought which wounded the proud heart of Hector, causing him to upbraid his cousin in somewhat harsh terms for his want of truthfulness, and steeled him against the bitter grief that wrung the heart of the penitert Louis, who, leaning his wet cheek on the shoulder of the kinder Catharine, sobbed as if his heart would break, heedless of her soothing words and affectionate endeavours to console him. " Dear Hector," she said, turning her soft, pleading eyes on the stern face of her brother, " you must not be so very angry with poor Louis ; remember it was to please me, and give me the enjoyment of a day of liberty with you and him- self in the woods, among the flowers and trees, and birds, that he committed this fault." " Catharine, Louis spoke an untruth and acted deceitfully, and look at the consequences, — we 24 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. < i ' shall liar-^ forfeited our parents' confidence, and may have some days of painful privation to endure before we regain our home, if we ever do find our way back to Cold Springs," replied Hector. " It is the grief and anxiety our dear parents will endure this night," answered Catharine, " that distresses my mind ; but," she added in more cheerful tones, " let us not despair, no doubt to-morrow we shall be able to retrace our steps." With the young there is ever a magical spell in that little word to-morrow, — it is a point which they pursue as fast as it recedes from them ; sad indeed is the young heart that does not look forward with hope to the morrow ! The cloud still hmig on Hector's brow, till Catharine gaily exclaimed, " Come, Hector! come, Louis ! we must not stand idling thus ; we must think of providing some shelter for the night ; it is not good to rest upon the bare ground exposed to the night dews. — See, here is a nice hut, hrdf made," pointing to a large up earned root which some fierce whirlwind had hurled from the lofty bank into the gorge of the dark glen. " Now you must make haste, and lop off a few pine boughs, and stick them into the ground, or even lean them against the roots of this old oak, THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 25 ince, and v^ation to e ever do " replied ir parents ZJatliarine, added in espair, no retrace our igical spell is a point cedes from •t that does )rrow ! "brow, till ■ctor! come, s ; we must |ie niglit ; it .nd exposed |ce Imt, half root which |m the lofty- lop off a few ground, or Lis old oak, and there, you see, will he a capital house to shelter us. To work, to work, you idle hoys, or poor wee Katty must turn squaw and huild her own wigwam," she playfully added, taking up the axe Avliich rested against the feathery pine heneath which Hector was leaning. Now, Catharine cared as little as her brother and cousin ahout passing a warm summer's niglit under the shade of the forest trees, for she was both hardy and healthy ; hut her woman's heart taught her that the surest means of reconciling the cousins would he by mutually interesting them in the same object, — and she was right. In endeavouring to provide for the comfort of their dear companion, all angry feelings were forgotten by Hector, while active employment chased away Louis's melancholy. Unlike the tall, straight, naked trunks of the pines of the forest, those of the plains are adorned with branches often to the very ground, varying in form and height, and often presenting most picturesque groups, or rising singly among scat- tered groves of the silver-barked poplar or grace- ful birch-trees ; the dark, mossy greenness of the stately pine contrasting finely with the light wav- ing foliage of its slender graceful companions. Hector, with his axe, soon lopped boughs from I one of the adjacent pines, which Louis shai-pened with his knife, and with Catharine's assistance 26 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. drove into tlic ground, an-anglng them in such a way as to make the upturned oak, with its roots and the earth whicli adhered to them, form the back part of the hut, which, when completed, formed by no means a contemptible shelter. Catharine then cut fern and deer grass with Louis's couteau-de-chasse,^yhich he always earned in a sheath at his girdle, and spread two beds, one, parted off by dry boughs and bark, for herself in the interior of the wigwam, and one for her brother and cousin nearer the entrance. When all was finished to her satisfaction, she called the two boys, and, according to the custom of her parents, joined them in the lifting up of their hands as an evening sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. Nor were these simple-hearted children backward in imploring help and pro- tection from the Most High. They earnestly prayed that no dangerous creature might come near to molest them during the hours of dark- ness and helplessness, no evil spirit visit them, no unholy or wicked thoughts intrude into their minds; but that holy angels and heaver. ly thoughts might hover over them, and fill their hearts with the peace of God which passeth all understanding. — And the prayer of the poor wanderers was heard, for they slept that night in peace, unharmed in the vast solitude. So passed their first night on the Plains. y n y THE CANADIAa^ CRUSOES. 27 1 in such a th its roots I, form the completed, )le shelter, grass with ;rays earned I two beds, 1 hark, for m, aud one le entrance, ^faction, she the custom ifting up of f praise and iple-hearted Ip and pro- jy earnestly might come urs of dark- t visit them, ie into their d heaver. ly nd fill their passsth all )f the poor that night )litude. So CHAPTER TI. " Fear not, ye are of more value than many sparrows." The sun had risen in all the splendour of a Canadian summer morning, when the sleepers arose from their leafy beds. In spite of tlie novelty of their situation, they had slept as soundly and tranquilly as if they had been under tlie protecting care of their beloved parents, on their little paliasses of corn straw ; but they had been eared for by Him who neither slumberetli nor sleepeth, and they waked full of youthful hope, and in fulness of faith in His mercy into whose hands they had commendec^ their souls and bodies before they retired to rest. While the children slept in peace and safety, what terrors had tilled the minds of their dis- tracted parents! what a night of anguish and soiTow had they passed ! When night had closed in without bringing back the absent children, the two fathers, lighting torches of fat pine, went forth in search of the wanderers. How often did they raise their voices in liopes their loud halloos might 28 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 1 . 1 1 reach the hearing of the lost ones ! How often did they clieck their hurried steps to listen for some replying* call ! But the sighing breeze in the pine tops, or sudden rustling of the leaves caused by the flight of the birds, startled by the unusual glare of the torches, and the echoes of their own voices, were the only sounds that met their anxious ears. At daybreak they returned, sad and dispirited, to their homes, to snatch a morsel of food, endeavour to cheer the drooping hearts of the weeping mothers, and hurry off, taking different directions. But, unfortunately, they had little clue to the route which Hector and Louis had taken, there being many cattle paths through the woods. Louis's want of truthfulness had caused this uncertainty, as he had left no intimation of the path he purposed taking when he quitted his mother's house: he had merely said he was going with Hector in search of the cattle, giving no hint of his intention of asking Catharine to accompany them : he had but told his sick sister, that he would bring home strawberries and flowers, and that he would soon return. Alas, poor thoughtless Louis, how little did you think of the web of woe you were then weaving for yourself, and all those to whom you and your giddy companions were so dear! Children, think twice, ere ye deceive once ! THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 29 How often I listen for 5 loreeze in tlic leaves tied by the 3 echoes of ds that met jy returned, to snatch a lie drooping d hurry oiF, [fortunately, L Hector and cattle paths truthfulness had left no ;aking when had merely ,earch of the ,n of asking e had but bring home would soon ^is, how little lU were then io whom you |e so dear ! once ! Catharine's absence would liavc been quite unaccountable but for the testimony of Duncan and Kenneth, who had received her sisterly caresses before she joined Hector at tlie barn ; and much her mother marvelled what could liave induced her good dutiful Catharine to have left her work and forsaken her household duties to go rambling away with the boys, for she never left the house when her mother was absent from it, without her express pei*mission, and now she was gone — lost to them, perhaps for ever. Tliere stood the wheel she had been turning, there hung the untwisted hanks of yai i, her morning task, — and there they remained w eek after week and month after month, untouched, a melan- choly memorial to the hearts of the bereaved parents of their beloved. It were indeed a fruitless task to follow the agonized fathers in their vain search for their children, or to paint the bitter anguish that filled their hearts as day passed after day, and still no tidings of the lost ones. As hope faded, a deep and settled gloom stole over the sorrowing parents, and reigned throughout the once cheerful and gladsome homes. At the end of a week the only idea that remained was, that one of these three casualties had befallen the lost children : — death, a lingering death by famine ; death, cruel and 30 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. horrible, by wolves or bears ; or yet more terrible, with tortures by the hands of the dreaded Indians, who oceasionally held their councils and hunting parties on the hills about the Rice Lake, which was known only by the elder Perron as the scene of many bloody encounters between the rival tribes of the Mohawks and Chippcwas: its localities were scarcely ever visited by our settlers, lest haply they should fall into the hands of the bloody Mohawks, whose merciless dispositions made them in those days a by-word even to the less cruel Chippcwas and other Indian nations. It was not in the direction of the Rice Lake that Maxwell and his brother-in-law sought their lost children ; and even if they had done so, among the deep glens and hill passes of what is now commonly called the Plains, they would have stood little chance of discovering the poor wanderers. After many days of fatigue of body and distress of mind, the son-owing parents sadly relinquished the search as utterly hopeless, and mourned in bitterness of spirit over the disastrous ^ate of their first-born and beloved children. — " There was a voice of woe, and lamentation, and great mourning; Rachel weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted, because they were not." ■.■7 1 THE CANADIAN CIIUSOES. 31 3rc tcnilAe, lCcI Indians, nd hunting ^akc, which [ts the scene n the rival 3pe\vas : its ;cd hy our til into the sc merciless s a by-word i and other le Rice Lake -law sought ley had done ill passes of Plains, they discovering ys of fatigue lie sorrowing ch as utterly ess of spirit irst-born and oice of woe, ling; Bachel fusing to he Tlie miserahlc uncertainty that involved the ftite of the lost ones was an aggravation to the sufferings of the mourners : could they hut have been certified of the manner of their deaths, they fancied they sliould he more contented ; hut, alas ! this fearful satisfaction was withheld. " Oh, were their tale of sorrow known, 'Twere something to the breaking heart, The pangs of doubt would then be gone, And fancy's eucVess dreams depart." But let us quit the now mournful settlement of the Cold Springs, and see how it really fared with the young wanderers. When they awoke the valley was filled with a white creamy mist, that arose from the bed of the stream, (now known as Cold Creek,) and gave an indistinctness to the whole landscape, investing it with an appearance perfectly dif- ferent to that which it had worn by the bright, clear light of the moon. No trace of their foot- steps remained to guide them in retracing their path ; so hard and dry was the stony ground that it left no impression on its surface. It was with some difficulty they found the creek, which was concealed from sight by a lofty screen of gigantic hawthorns, high-bush cranbemes, poplars, and birch-trees. The hawthorn was in blossom, and gave out a sweet perfume, not 82 THE CANADIAN CRI'SOES. M: less fragrant than the " May " which makes the lanes and hedgerows of "mcrrie old England" so sweet and fair in May and June, as chanted in many a genuine pastoral of our olden time ; but when our simple Catharine drew down the flowery branches to wreathe about her hat, she loved the flowers for their own native sweetness and beauty, not because poets had sung of them ; — but young minds have a natural poetry in themselves, unfettered by rule or rhyme. At length th • path began to grow more difficult. A ta ^ ,d mass of cedars, balsams, birch, black ash, alders, and tamarach (Indian name for the larch), with a dense thicket of bushes and shrubs, such as love the cool, damp soil of marshy ground, warned our travellers that they must quit the banks of the friendly stream, or they might become entangled in a trackless swamp. Having taken copious and refreshing draughts from the bright waters, and bathed their hands and faces, they ascended the grassy bank, and again descending, found them- selves in one of those long valleys, enclosed between lofty sloping banks, clothed with shrubs and oaks, with here and there a stately pine. Through this second valley they pursued their way, till emerging into a wider space, they came among those singularly picturesque groups of I i;^M Tin: CAXADIAN rursoKs. 33 makes tlic rigland" so IS chanted Iclcn time; r down tlic er hat, she 3 sweetness ,d sung of ural poetry :hyme. grow more ■s, halsams, ach (Indian 5 thicket of cool, damp ir travellers he friendly ingled in a :opious and ■waters, and ^scended the ound them- s, enclosed ith shrubs tately pine, irsued their ;, they came groups of ronndcd gravel lilll.^, wliere the Cold (Jreek once more met tlu'ir view, winding its way tin artls a grove of evergreens, where it was again ^1st to the eye. This lovely s])ot is now known as Sackvillc's ^Fill-dike. The hand of man has curbed the free course of the wild forest stream, and made it subservient to his will, but could not destroy the natural beauties of the scene.* Fearing to entangle themselves in the swamp, they kept the hilly ground, winding their way u]) to the summit of the lofty ridge of the oak hills, the highest ground they had yet attained ; and here it was that the silver waters of the Rice Lake in all its beauty burst upon the eyes of the wondering and delighted travellers. There it lay, a sheet of liquid silver just emerging from the blue veil of mist that hung upon its surface, and concealed its wooded shores on either side. All feeling of dread and doubt and danger was lost, for the time, in one rapturous glow of admiration at a scene so unexpected * This place was originally owned by u man of taste, who resided for some time upon the spot, till finding it convenient to return to his native country, the svAr-mill passed into other hands. The old log-house on the gr-^ .a bank above the mill-stream is still standing, though deserted ; the garden- ' fence, broken .and dilapidated, no longer protects the en- closure, where the wild rose mingles with that of Provence, — the Canadian creeper with the hop. D 34 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. f i: i.'ii ; ; 'I; I and so beautiful as that which they no^V■ gazed upon from the elevation they had gained. From this ridge they looked down the lake, and the eye could take in an extent of many miles, with its verdant wooded islands, which stole into view one by one as the rays of tlie morning sun drew up the moving curtain, of mist that en- veloped them ; and soon both northern and southern shores became distinctly visible, with all their bays and capes and swelling oak and pine-crowned hills. And now arose the question, " Wliere are we? What lake is this ? Can it be the Ontario, or is it the Rice Lake ? Can yonder shores be those of the Americans, or are they the hunting- grounds of the dreaded Indians?" Hector remembered having often heard his lather say that the Ontario was like an inland sea, and the opposite shores not visible unless in some re- markable state of the atmosphere, when they had been occasionally discerned by the naked eye, while here they could distinctly see objects on the otlier side, the peculiar growth of the trees, and even flights of wild fowl winging their way among the rice and low bushes on its margin. The breadth of the lake from shore to shore could not, they thought, exceed three or four miles ; while its length, in an easterly jiii; ' i ! THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. 35 lO^V■ gazed ed. From ?, and the ailes, with stole into orning sun t that en- thern and sible, with o- oak and o ere arew^e? ntario, or is I es he those le hunting- ' Hector father say ica, and the n some re- ,en they had naked eye, ohjects on vih. of the |\vl winging shos on its )m shore to 3d three or Ian easterly direction, seemed far greater beyond wliat tlie eye coukl take in.* They now quitted tlie lofty riclo;c, and bent their steps towards the lake. Wearied with their walk, tliey seated themselves beneath tlie shade of a beautiful feathery pine, on a higli ])romontory that commanded a magnificent view down the lake. " How pleasant it would be to have a house on this delightful bank, overlooking the lake," said Louis ; " only think of the fish we could take, and the ducks and wild fowl w^e could shoot ! and it would be no very hard matter to hollow out a log canoe, such a one as I have heard my father say he has rowed in across many a lake and broad river below, wlien he w^as lumbering." " Yes, it would, indeed, be a pleasant spot to live upon,"t said Hector, "though I am not quite sure that the land is as good just here as it is at Cold Springs ; but all these flats and * The length of the Rice Lake, from its headwaters ner.r Black's Landing to the mouth of the Trent, is said to bo twenty-five miles; its breadth from north to south varies from three to six. f Now the site of a pleasant cottage, erected by an enter- prising gentleman from Devonshire, who has cleared and cultivated a considerable portion of the ground described above ; a spot almost unequalled in the plains for its natural beauties and extent of prospect. i 36 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. i 11 ! VI rich valleys would make fine pastures, and produce plenty of grain, too, if cultivated." " You always look to the main chance, Hec," said Louis, laughing ; " well, it was worth a few hours' walking this morning to look upon so lovely a sheet of water as this. I would spend two nights in a wigwam, — would not you, ma belle? — to enjoy such a sight." " Yes, Louis," replied his cousin, hesitating as she spoke; "it is very pretty, and I did not mind sleeping in the little hut ; but then I cannot enjoy myself as much as I should have done had my father and mother been aware of my intention of accompanying you. Ah, my dear, dear parents !" she added, as the thought of the anguish the absence of her companions and herself would cause at home came over her. " How I wish I had remained at home ! Selfish Catharine ! foolish idle girl ! " Poor Louis was overwhelmed with grief at the sight of his cousin's tears, and as the kind- hearted but thoughtless boy bent over her to soothe and console her, his own tears fell upon the fair locks of the weeping girl, and bedewed the hand he held between his own. " If you cry thus, cousin," he whispered, " you will break poor Louis's heart, already sore enough with thinking of his foolish conduct." THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 37 tures, and Lted." incc, Hoc," IS worth a look upon . I would lid not you, I, hesitating d I did not hut then I should have en aw^are of I. Ah, my the thought companions came over ;d at home ! [ith grief at IS the kind- lover her to Irs fell upon jnd bedewed whispered, already sore [conduct." " Be not cast down, Catharine," said lier hrothcr, chccringly; "we may not be so tar from liomc as you tliink. As soon as you are rested we will set out again, and we may find something to eat ; there must be strawberries on these sunny banks." Catharine soon yielded to the voice of her brother, and drying her eyes, proceeded to descend tlic sides of the steep valley that lay to one side of the high ground where they had been sitting. Suddenly darting down the bank, she ex- claimed, " Come, Hector ; come, Louis : here indeed is provision to keep us from starving ; " — for her eye had caught the bright red straw- berries among the flowers and lierbage on the slope ; large ripe strawberries, the very finest she liad ever seen. " There is indeed, ma belle," said Louis, stooping as he spoke to gatlier up, not the fruit, but a dozen fresh partridge eggs from the inner shade of a thick tuft of gTass and herbs that grew beside a fallen tree. Catharine's voice and sudden movements had startled the partridge * from her nest, and the eG:G:s were soon trans- o&' * The Canadian partridge is a species of gronse, larger than the English or Fre acli partridge. We refer our young readers to the finely arranged specimens in the British Museum, (open to the public,) where they may discover " Louis's partridge." 38 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. It: : I- foiTcd to Louis's straw liat, wliilc a stone flung by the « toicly liand of Hector stunned tlie parent bird. The boys laughed exultingly as they dis- played their prizes to the astonished Catharine, who, in spite of hunger, could not help regretting the death of the mother bird. Girls and women rarely sympatliise with men and boys in their field sports, and Hector laughed at his sister's doleful looks as he handed over the bird to her. " It was a lucky chance," said he, " and the stone was well aimed, but it is not the first svpartridge that I have killed in this way. They are so stupid you may even run them dov/n at times ; I hope to get another before the day is over. Well, there is no fear of starving to-day, at all events," he added, as he inspected the contents of his cousin's hat ; " twelve nice fresh eggs, a bird, and plenty of fruit." " But how shall we cook the bird and the eggs? We have no means of getting a fire made," said Catharine. " As to the eggs," said Louis, " we can eat them raw ; it is not for hungry wanderers like us to be over nice about our food." " They would satisfy us much better were they boiled, or roasted in the ashes," observed Hector. " True. Well, a fire, I think, can be got with a little trouble." " But how?" asked Hector. :'lr:iii THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 39 itonc flung the parent IS they dis- Catharine, ) regretting mcl women y?, in their his sister's lird to her. , " and the )t the first ray. They 111 down at the day is ing to-day, siiected the nice fresh •d and the tting a fire ^ve can eat derers like r were they ;d Hector. je got with M " Oh, there are many ways, hut the readiest woukl be a flint witli tlie lielp of my knife." '' A flint?" " Yes, if we coukl get one — hut I see nothing hut granite, which crumbks and sliivers when struck — we could not get a spark. However, I tliink it's very likely tliat one of the round pehbk's 1 see on the beach yonder may be found hard enough for the purpose." To the shore they bent their steps as soon as tlie little basket had been well filled with straw- berries, and descending the precipitous bank, fringed with young saplings, birch, ash, and poplars, they quickly found themselves beside the bright waters of the lake. A flint Avas soon found among the water-worn stones that lay thickly strewn upon the shore, and a handful of dry sedge, alu.jst as inflammable as tinder, was collected without trouble ; though Louis, with the recklessness of his nature, had coolly proposed to tear a strip from his cousin's apron as a substitute for tinder, — a proposal that somewhat raised the indignation of the tidy Catharine, whose ideas of economy and neatness were greatly outraged, especially as she had no sewing implements to assist in mending the rent. Louis vhought nothing of that ; it was a part of his character to think only of the present, little of the past, and to let the 40 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. n future provide for itself. Such was Louis's gi*eat failing, which h^d proved a fruitful source of trouble both to himself and others. In this respect he bore a striking contrast to his more cautious companion, who possessed much of the gra'^c^jof his father. Hector was as heed- ful and steady in his decisions as Louis was rash and impetuous. After many futile attempts, and some skin knocked off their knuckles through awkward handling of the knife and flint, a good fire was at last kindled, as there was no lack of dry wood on the shore ; Catharine then triumph- antly produced her tin pot, and the eggs were boiled, greatly to the satisfaction of all parties, who were by this time sufficiently hungry, having eaten nothing since the previous evening more substantial than the strawberries they had taken during the time they were gathering them in the morning. Catharine had selected a pretty, cool, shady recess, a natural bower, under the overhanging growth of cedars, poplars, and birch, which were wreathed together by the flexile branches of the vine and bitter-sweet, which climbed to a height of fifteen feet* among the branches • Solanum dulcamara, — Bitter-sweet or Woody nightshade. This plant, like the red-berried briony of England, is highly ornamental. It possesses powerful properties as a medicine, and is in high reputation among thj Indians. lOuis's great .1 source of s. In this to his more L much of as as heed- iiis was rash some skin ;h awkward 1 good fire no lack of en triumph- 1 the eggs c.tion of all sufficiently the previous strawberries they were cool, shady )verlianging irch, which le branches climbed to e branches (dy nightshade. land, is highly as a medicine, J'.'r-,':'*' v_v:. rilB FIRGT imEAKFAST. li I \i THE CANADIAN CIIUSOES. 41 < of the trees, wliich it covered as witli a mantle. A pure spring of cold, delicious water welled out from beneath the twisted roots of an old lioary-barked cedar, and found its way among the shingles on the beach to the lake, a humble but constant tributary to its waters. Some large blocks of water-worn stone formed conve- nient seats and a natural table, on which the little maiden arranged the forest fare ; and never was a meal made with greater appetite or taken with more thankfulness than that which our wan- derers ate that morning. The eggs (part of which they reserved for another time} were declared to be better than those that were daily produced from the little hen-house at Cold Springs. The strawberries, set out in little pottles made with the shining leaves of the oak, ingeniously pinned together by Catharine with the long spurs of the hawthorn,* were voted delicious, and the pure water most refreshing, that they drank, for lack of better cups, from a large mussol-shell which Catharine had picked up among the weeds and pebbles on the beach. Many children would have wandered about weeping and disconsolate, lamenting their sad * The long-spurred American hawthorn may be observed by our young readers among that beautiful collection of the hawthorn family and its affinities, which flourish on the north side of Kensington Gai-dens. 42 THE CANADIAN CRtSOES. s;;i f i,' ni fate, or have embittered tlie time by useless repining, or, perhaps, by venting their imeasi- ness in reviling the principal author of their calamity — poor, thoughtless Louis ; but such were not the dispositions of our young Canadians. Early accustomed to the hardships incidental to the lives of the settlers in the bush, these young people had learned to bear with patience and cheerfulness privations that would have crushed the spirits of children more delicately nurtiu'cd. They had known ev^eiy degree of hunger and nakedness ; during the first few years of their lives they had often been compelled to subsist for days and weeks upon roots and herbs, wild fruits, and game which their fathers had learned to entrap, to decoy, and to shoot. Thus Louis and Hector had early been initiated into the mysteries of the chase. They could make dead- falls, and pits, and traps, and snares, — they were as expert as Indians in the use of the bow, — they could pitch a stone, or fling a wooden dart at partridge, hare, and squirrel, with almost un- erring aim ; and were as swift of foot as young fawns. Now it was that they learned to value in its fullest extent this useful and practical knowledge, which enabled them to face with fortitude the privations of a life so precarious as that to which they were now exposed. It was one of the elder Maxwell's maxims, — ?. TIIK CAXADIAX CRUSOKS. 43 3 by useless tlicir uncasi- lior of their i ; but such ip^ Cauadians. incidental to , these young patience and have crushed ■ely nurtured. • hunger and ^ears of their ed to subsist d herbs, wild s had learned Thus Louis ited mto the :1 make dead- ■i, — they were e bow, — they )oden dart at almost un- 3ot as young ned to value and practical to face with precarious as ed. 's maxims, — Kcver let difficulties overcome you, but rather strive to concpier them ; let the head direct the hand, and tlie hand, like a wel^di^'ciplined soldier, obey the head as chief. When his children expressed any doubts of not being able to accomplisli any Avork tliey had begim, he would say, " Have you not hands, liave you not a head, have you not eyes to see, and reason to guide you? As for impossibilities, they do not belong to the trade of a soldier, — he dare not see them." Thus were energy and perseverance early instilled into tiic minds of his children ; they were now called i\\)on to give practical proofs of the precepts that had been taught them in childhood. Hector trusted to his axe, and Louis to his coutecm-dc-chasse and pocket-knife ; the latter was a present from an old forest friend of his father's, who had visited them the previous winter, and which, by good luck, Louis had in his pocket, — a capacious pouch, in which were stored many precious things, such as coils of twine and string, strips of leather, with odds and ends of various kinds ; nails, bits of iron, leather, and such miscellaneous articles as find their way most mysteriously into boys' pockets in general, and Louis Perron's in particular, who was a wonderful collector of such small matters. The children were not easily daunted by the prospect of passing a few days abroad on so ' 1 44 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ■i;:ii Ji cliarniing a .spot, and at sucli a luvely season, wliorc fruits were so abundant ; and when they liad finished their morning meal, so providen- tially i)laced within their reaeh, they gratefully aeknowledged the merey of God in this thing. Having refreslied themselves by Lathing their hands and faees in the lake, they cheerfully re- newed their wanderings, though something loth to leave the cool shade and the spring for an untrodden path among the hills and deep ravines that furrow the shores of the Rice Lake in so remarkable a manner ; and often did our weary wanderers pause to look upon the wild glens and precipitous hills, where the fawn and the shy deer found safe retreats, unharmed by the rifle of the hunter, — where the osprey and white- headed eagle built their nests, unheeding and unharmed. Twice that day, misled by following the track of the deer, had they returned to the same spot, — a deep and lovely glen, which had once been a water-course, but now a green and shady valley. This they named the Valley of the Rock, from a remarkable block of red gTanite that occupied a central position in the narrow defile ; and here they prepared to pass the second night on the Plains. A few bouglis cut down and interlaced with the shrubs round a small space cleared with Hector's axe, formed shelter, and leaves and grass, strewed on the ground. THE CANADIAX Cni'SOKS. 45 )vely season, [1 when they so pvovicleii- ey griitefully tliis thing. Lathing their cheerfully rc- mething loth =ipring for an L deep ravines ;e Lake in so lid our weary did glens and and the shy d by the rifle y and whitc- iheeding and I by following turned to the n, which had V a green and the Valley of of red granite n the narrow ass the second ^hs cut down ound a small •rmed shelter, the ground, ) foinied a bed, though not so smooth, perhaps, as th(^ bark and cedar-boughs that the Indians spread within their sunnner wigwams for cjirpets and couches, or the fresh heather that the High- landers gather on the wild Scottish hills. Wliile Hector and Louis were preparing the sleeping-chamber, Catharine busied herself in preparing the partridge for their supper. Having collected some thin peelings from the rugged bark of a birch-tree, that grew on the side of the steep bank to which she gave the appropriate name of the " Birken shaw," she dried it in her bosom, and then beat it fine upon a big stone, till it resembled the finest white paper. This proved excellent binder, the aromatic oil contained in the bark of the birch being highly inflammable. Hector had prudently retained the flint that they had used in the morning, and a fire was now lighted in front of the rocky stone, and a forked stick, stuck in the ground, and bent over the coals, served as a spit, on which, gipsy-fashion, the partridge was suspended, — a scanty meal, but thankfully partaken of, though they knew not how they should breakfast next mornin"'. The children felt they were pensioners on God's providence not less than the wild denizens of the wilderness around them. When Hector — who by nature was less 46 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 1 .1 M M S|! sanguine than his sister or cousin — expressed some anxiety for their provisions for ilie morrow, Catharine, wlio had early listened with trusting piety of heart to the teaching of her father, when he read portions from the holy word of God, gently laid her hand upon her brother's head, Avhicli rested on her knees, as he sat upon tlie grass beside her, and said, in a low and earnest tone, " ' Consider the fowls of the air ; they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?' Surely, my brother, God careth for us as much as for the wild creatures, that have no sens(; to praise and glorify his holy name. God cares for the creatures He has made, and supplies them with knowledge where they shall find food when they hunger and thirst. So I have heard my father say; and surely our ftitlier knows, for is he not a wise man. Hector?" " I remember," said Louis, thoughtfully, " hearing my mother repeat the words of a good old man she knew when she lived in Quebec; — * When you are in trouble, Mathilde,' he used to say to her, ' kneel down, and ask God's help, nothing doubting but that He has the power as well as the will to serve you, if it be for your good; for He is able to bring all things to pass. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 47 — expressed llie morrow, *atli trusting father, when )rd of God, ftlicr's head, 5at upon tlic and earnest r ; they sow r into barns, them. Are Surely, my 1 as for tlie praise and res for tlie s them with 1 when they d my fatlier or is he not loughtfully, Is of a good Quebec ; — he used God's help, le power as je for your igs to pass. e It is our own want of faith tliat prevents our prayers from being heard.' And, truly, I think the wise old man was right," he added. It was strange to hear grave words like these from the lips of the giddy Louis. Possibly tl'c y had the greater weight on that account. And Hector, looking up with a serious air, re^^lied, " Your mother's friend was a good man, liouis. Our want of trust in God's power must displease Him. And when we think of all the great and glorious things He has made, — that blue sky, those sparkling stars, the beautiful moon that is now shining down upon us, and the hills and Avaters, the mighty forest, and little creeping plants and flowers that grow at our feet,— -it must, indeed, seem foolish in his eyes that wc should doubt his power to help us, who not only made all these things, but ourselves also." " True," said Catharine ; " but then, Hector, we are .lot as God made us ; for the wicked one cai*t bad seed in the field where God had sown the go(xL" •• f^'t ii,-*, however, consider what we shall do for f(/4 ; ^or, you know, God hel])s those that help tlifcmsclves," said Louis. " Let us consider a little. There must be plenty of iish in the lake, both small and groat." " But how are we to get them out of it?" 48 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. rejoined Catliarinc. " I doubt the fisli will swim at their ease there, while we go hungry." " Do not interrupt me, ma chere. Then, we see the track of deer, and the holes of the wood- chuck ; we hear the cry of squiiTcls and chit- munks, and there are plenty of partridges, md ducks, and quails, and snipes ; of course, we have to contrive some way to kill them. Fruits there are in abundance, and plenty of nuts of different kinds. At present we have plenty of fine strawberries, and huckleberries will be ripe soon in profusion, and bilberries too, and you know how pleasant they are ; as for raspberries, I see none ; but by-and-by there will be May- apples — I see great quantities of them in the low ground.- , grapes, high-bush-cranberries, haws as large as cherries, and sweet too ; S( juaw- berries, wild plums, choke-cherries, and bird- cherries. As to sweet acorns, there will be bushels and bushels of them for the roasting, as good as chestnuts, to my taste ; and butter-nuts, and hickory-nuts, — with many other good things." And here Louis stopped for want of breath to continue his catalogue of forest dainties. " Yes; and there are bears, and wolves, aiii«l racoons, too, that will eat us for want of better food," interrupted Hector, slyly. " Nay. Katty, THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 49 le fisli will ;o Imngiy." . Then, we of the wood- ils and chit- rtridges, md f course, we liem. Fruits ty of nuts of ive plenty of 3 will he ripe too, and you )r raspherries, will he May- em in the low erries, haws too; P'juaw- |es, and hird- here will he e roasting, as |d hutter-nuts, other good Id for want of lue of forest |d wolves, and -ant of hetter Nav. Katty, do not shudder, as if you were already in the clutches of a hig hear. Neither hear nor wolf shall make mincemeat of thee, my girl, while Louis and thy hrother are near, to wield an axe or a knife in thy defence." " Nor catamount spring upon thee, ma belle cousine," added Louis, gallantly, " while thy hold cousin Louis can scare him away." " Well, now that we know our resources, tlie next thing is to consider how we are to obtain them, my dears," said Catharine. " For fish- ing, you know, we must have a hook and line, a rod, or a net. Now, where are these to he met ^nth?" Louis nodded his head sagaciously. *' The line I think T can provide ; the hook is more difficult, but I do not despair even of that. As to the rod, it can he cut from any slender sap- ling on the shore. A net. ma chere, I could make with very little trouble, if I had but a piece of cloth to sew over a hoop." Catharine laughed. "You are very inge- nious, no doubt. Monsieur Louis, but where are you to get the cloth and the hoop, and tlie TUfiim sf sewing; it on ? " Louis took up the comer of liis cousin's apron with a provoking look. My apron, sir, is not to be appropriated E n THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. lir I .1 ! 'i I for any such purpose. You seem to covet it for everything." " Indeed, ma petite, I think it very un- becoming and very ugly, and never could see any good reason why you and Mamma and Mathilde should wear such frightful things." " It is to keep our gowns clean, Louis, when we are milking and scrubbing, and doing all sorts of liousehold duties," said Catharine. " Well, ma belle, you have neither cows to milk, nor house to clean," replied the annoying boy ; " so there can be little want of the apron. I could turn it to fifty useful purposes." " Pooh, nonsense," said Hector, impatiently, " let the child alone, and do not tease her about her apron." " Well, then, there is another good thing I did not think of before, water mussels. I have heard my father and old Jacob the lumberer say, that, roasted in their shells in the ashes, with a seasoning of salt and pepper, they are good eating when nothing better is to be got." " No doubt, if the seasoning can be procured," said Hector, " but, alas for the salt and the )» pepper " Well, we can eat them with the best of all sauces — hunger ; and then, no doubt, there are .k THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 51 covet it for t very "vm- ^ ■r could see ^lamina and . things." Louis, when ,nd doing all ttharine. ither cows to the annoying t of the apron. loses.' »r, impatiently, ease her ahout er good thing vater mussels, old Jacob the their shells in alt and pepper, ing hetter is to m he procured,'^ salt and the the hest of all doubt, there are crayfish in the gravel under the stones, hut we must not mind a pinch to our fingers in taking them." " To-morrow then let as breakfast on fish," said Hector. " You and I will try our luck, while Kate gathers strawberries ; and if our line should break, we can easily cut those long locks from Catharine's head, and twist them into lines," — and Hector laid his hands upon the long fair hair that hung in shining curls about his sister's neck. " Cut my curls! This is even worse than cousin Louis's proposal of making tinder and fishing-nets of my apron," said Catharine, shaking back the bright tresses, which, escaping from the snood that bound them, fell in golden waves over her shoulders. "In truth, Hec, it were a sin and a shame to *cut her pretty curls, that become her so well," said Louis. " But we have no scissors, ma belle, so you need fear no injury to your precious locks." " For the matter of that, Louis, we could 5 cut them with your couteau-de-chasse. I could jtell you a story that my father told me, not ^ong since, of Charles Stuart, the second king >f that name in England. You know he was he grand-uncle of the young Chevalier Charles ri 'I 52 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. !• l' .1 Edward, that my father talks of, and loves so much." " I know all about him," said Catharine, nodding sagaciously ; "let us hear the story of hia grand-uncle. But I should like to know what my hair and Louis's knife can have to do with King Charles." " Wait a bit, Kate, and you shall hear, that is, if you have patience," said her brother. " Well then, you must know, that after some great battle, the name of which I forget,* in which the King and his handful of brave soldiers were defeated by the forces of the Parliament, (the Roundheads, as they were called,) the poor young king was hunted like a partridge upon the mountains; a large price was set on his head, to be given to any traitor who should slay him, or bring him prisoner to Oliver Cromwell. He was obliged to dress himself in all sorts of queer clothes, and hide in all manner of strange, out of the way places, and keep company with rude and humble men, the better to hide his real rank from the cruel enemies that sought his life. Once he hid along with a gallant gentle- man,! one of his own brave officers, in the branches of a great oak. Once he was hid in a mill ; and another time he was in the house of * Battle of Worcester. f Colonel Careless. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 53 md loves Catharine, le story of J to know have to do . hear, that er brother. after some forget,* in rave soldiers Parliament, | d,) the poor |tridge upon | set on his should slay ir Cromwell. all sorts of ■r of strange, impany with to hide his ; ,t sought his ! aiant gentle- | [cers, in the was hid in a the house of jl Careless. one Pendril, a woodman. The soldiers of flie Parliament, who were always prowling about, and popping in unawares wherever they sus- pected the poor king to be hidden, were, at one time, in the very room where he was standing beside tlie fire." "Oh!" exclaimed Catharine, "that was frightful. And did they take him prisoner?" " No ; for the wise woodman and his brothers, fearing lest the soldiers should discover that he was a cavalier and a gentleman, by the long curls that the king's men all wore in those days, and called lovelocks, begged of his majesty to let his hair be cropped close to his head." " That was very hard, to lose his nice curls." " I dare say the young king thought so too, but it was better to lose his hair than his head. So, I suppose, the men told him, for he suifered them to cut it all close to his head, laying down his head on a rough deal table, or a chopping- block, while his faithful friends with a large knife trimmed off the curls." " I wonder if the young king thought at that minute of his poor father, who, you know, was forced by wicked men to lay down his liead upon a block to have it cut from his shoulders, because Cromwell, and others as hard-hearted as himself, willed that he should die." 54 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. \ii I ! ! , I'M .' " Poor king ! " said Catharine, sighing, " I see that it is better to be poor children, wan- dering on these plains under God's own care, than to be kings and princes at the mercy of bad and sinful men." " Who told your father all these things, Hec?" said Louis. " It was the son of his brave colonel, who knew a great deal about the history of the Stuart kings, for our colonel had been with Prince Charles, the young chevalier, and fought by his side when he was in Scotland ; he loved him dearly, and, after the battle of CuUoden, where the Prince lost all, and was driven from place to place, and had not where to lay his head, he went abroad in hopes of better times; (bui; those times did not come for the poor Prince ; and our colonel, after a while, through the friendship of General Wolfe, got a com- mission in the army that was embarking for Quebec, and, at last, commanded the regiment to which my father belonged. He was a kind man, and my father loved both him and his son, and grieved not a little when he parted from him." " Well," said Catharine, " as you have told me such a nice story, Mister Hec, I shall forgive the affront about my curls." Well, tiien, to-morrow we are to try our a THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 55 ghing, "I dren, wan- own care, e mercy of ese things, olonel, who itory of the [ been with , and fought id; he loved of Culloden, driven from •e to lay his ,etter times; or the poor ile, through got a com- iharking for ;he regiment [e was a kind and his son, id from him." ou have told shall forgive re to try our 1 luck at fishing, and if we fail, we will make us bows and arrows to kill deer or small game ; I fancy avc shall not be over particular as to its quality. Why should not we be able to find subsistence as well as the wild Indians?" " True," said Hector, " the wild men of the wilderness, and the animals and birds, all are fed by the things that He provideth; then, wherefore should His white children fear?" *' I have often heard my father tell of the privations of the lumberers, when they have fallen short of provisions, and of the contrivances of himself and old Jacob Morelle, when they were lost for several days, nay, weeks I believe it was. Like the Indians, they made themselves bows and arrows, using the sinews of the deer, or fresh thongs of leather, for bow-strings ; and when they could not get game to eat, they boiled the inner bark of the slippery elm to jelly, or birch bark, and drank the sap of the sugar maple when they could get no water but melted snow only, which is unwholesome ; at lat:t, they even boiled their own mocassins." " Indeed, Louis, that must have been a very unsavoury dish," said Catharine. " That old buckskin vest would have made a famous pot of soup of itself," added Hector, *' or the deer-skin hunting shirt." J r>c, THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. h I' " Well, tlioy might have been reduced even to that," said Louis, laughing, " hut for the good fortune that hefel them in the way of a half-roasted Lear." " Nonsense, cousin Louis, hears do not run al)OUt ready roasted iu the forest, like the lambs in the old nurser> tale." " Well now, Kate, this was a fact ; at least, it was told as one by old Jacob, and my father did not deny it; shall I tell you about it? .Vfter passing several hungry days with no better food to keep them alive than the scrapings of the inner bark of the ])oplars and elms, which was not very substantial ibr hearty men, they encamped one night in a thick dark swamp, — not the sort of place they would have chosen, but that they could not help themselves, having * been enticed into it by the tracks of a deer or a moose, — and night came upon them unawares, so they set to work to kindle up a fire with spunk, and a flint and knife; rifle they had none, or maybe they would have had game to eat. Old Jacob flxed upon a huge hollow pine, that lay across their path, against which he soon piled a glorious heap of boughs and arms of trees, and whatever wood he could collect, and lighted up a fine fire. You know what a noble hand old Jacob used to be at making up a rearing fire ; he !. ! THE CANADIAN CRUSOKS. 57 idiiced even Lilt for the c way of a do not run cc the lambs t ; at least, it d my father )u about it? lys with no the scrapings I elms, which by men, they I'k swamp, — re chosen, but Ives, having )f a deer or a 1 unawares, so 3 with spunk, had none, or to eat. Old )ine, that lay soon piled a of trees, and rl lighted up )ble hand old taring fire ; he t thoii;^ht, I suppose, if he rould not have warmth witliin, lie AVoiihl have plenty of it without. The wood was dry pine and cedar and birch, and it blazed away, and crackled and burnt like a pine-torch. By-and-by they he.'vd a most awful growling close to them. * Tiiat's a big bear, as I live,' said old Jacob, looking all about, tliinking to sec one come out from the tliick bush; but Bruin was nearer to h'm than he thouglit, for presently a great black bear burst out from the but-end of the great burning log, and made towards Jacob; just then the wind blew the flame outward, and it caught the bear's thick coat, and he was all in a blaze in a moment. No doubt the heat of the fire had penetrated to the hollow of the log, where he had lain himself snugly up for the winter, and wakened him; but Jacob seeing the huge black brute all in a flame of fire, began to think it was Satan's own self come to carry him off, and he roared with fright, and the bear roared with pain and rage, and my fLither roared with laughing to see Jacob's teiTor; but he did not let the bear laugh at him, for he seized a thick pole that he had used for closing in the brands :and logs, and soon demolished the bear, who nvas so blinded with the fire and smoke that he made no fight ; and they feasted on roast bear's wn 58 THE CANADIAN CRITSOES. .1 i^ I! I I. ; flesh for many days, and got a capital skin to cover them beside." " What, Louis, after the fur was all singed?" said Catharine. " Kate, you are too particular," said Louis; " a story never loses, you know." Hector laughed heartily at the adventure, and enjoyed the dilemma of the bear in his winter quarter; but Catliarine was somewhat shocked at the levity displayed by her cousin and brother, when recounting the teiTor of old Jacob and the sufferings of the poor bear." " You boys are always so unfeeling," she said, gi'avely. " Indeed, Kate," said her brother, *' the day may come when the sight of a good piece of roast bear's flesh will be no unwelcome sight. If we do not find our way back to Cold Springs before the winter sets in, we may be reduced to as bad a state as poor Jacob and my uncle were in the pine swamps, on the banks of the St. John." " Ah ! " said Catharine, trembling, *' that would be too bad to happen." *' Courage, ma belle, let us not despair for the morrow. Let us see what to-morrow will do for us ; meantime, we will not neglect the bless- ings we still possess ; see, our partridge is ready. 9. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 59 ipital skin to all singed?" ' said Louis; ,d venture, and in his winter what shocked [' cousin and ir of old Jacoh r. let us cat our supper, and he tliankful ; and for grace let us say, ' Sufficient unto the day is the evil tliercof.' " I Long exposure to tlic air had sharpened their appetites — the hungry wanderers needed no furtlier invitation, the scanty meal, equally divided, was soon despatched. It is a common saying, but excellent to be remembered by any wanderers in our forest Wilds, that those who travel by the sun travel in a circle, and usually lind themselves at ttight in the same place from whence they ifeeling," she Started in the morning; so it was with our li^anderers. At sunset, they found themselves lier " the day Once more in the ravine, beside the big stone, Q-ood piece of ^ which they had rested at noon. .They welcome sight. I^ad imagined themselves miles and miles Cold Springs distant from it ; they were grievously disap- be reduced to pointed. They had encouraged each other with my uncle were ^S^e confident hope that they were drawing near banks of the ^ the end of their bewildering journey ; they t^ere as far from their home as ever, without the iblinff " that i^ightest clue to guide them to the right path. Despair is not a feeling which takes deep root despair for the % ^^^^ youthful breast. The young are always hopeful ; so confident in their own wisdom and ill in averting or co:iquering danger; so trust- g; so willing to believe that there is a peculiar rovidence watching over them. Poor children ! orrow will do lect the bless- ;ridge is ready, 80 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. they had indeed need of sucli a belief to strengthen their minds and encourage them to fresh exertions, for new trials were at hand. The broad moonlight had already flooded the recesses of the glen with light, and all looked fresh and lovely in the dew, which glittered on tree and leaf, on herb and flower. Catharine, who, though weary with her fatiguing wander- ings, could not sleep, left the little hut of boughs which hev companions had put up near the granite rock in the valley for her accommo- dation, and ascended the western bank, where the last jutting spur of its steep side formed a lofty clifflike promontory, at the extreme verge of which the roots of one tall spreading oak formed a most inviting seat, from whence the traveller looked down into a level track, which stretched away to the edge of the lake. This flat had been the estuary of the mountain stream, which had once rushed down between the hills, forming a narrow gorge; but now, all was clianged; the -'aters had ceased to flovf , the granite bed was over- grown, and carpeted with deer-grass and flowers of many hues, wild fruits and busl:eo, below ; while majestic oaks and pines towered above. A sea of glittering foliage lay beneath Catharine's feet; in the distance the eye of the young girl rested on a belt of shining waters, 'vliicli girt in the shores 1 "ke a silver zone ; beyond, yet more 5. TH^ CANADIAN CRUSOEv*?. 61 a belief to age them to it hand. '- flooded the d all looked glitterc'd on Catharine, ling wander- ittle hut of put up near er accommo- ik, where the rmed a lofty crge of which )rmed a most /-eller looked jhed away to ad been the ich had once ing a nan'ow tlie ' 'aters d was over- 3 and flowers il'.eo, below ; vered. above. Catharine's young girl vliicli girt in id, yet more remote to the northward, stretched the illimitable forest. Never had Catharine looked upon a scene so still or so fair to the eye; a holy calm seemed to shed its influence over her young mind, and peaceful tears stole down her cheeks. Not a sound was there abroad, scarcely a leaf stirred ; she could have stayed for hours there gazing on the calm beauty of nature, and communing with her own heart, when suddenly a stirring rustling sound caught her ear; it came from a hollow channel on one side of the promontory, which was thickly overgi'own with the shrubby dog- wood, wild roses and bilberry bushes. Imagine the terror which seized the poor girl, on per- ceiving a grisly beast breaking through the covert of the bushes. With a scream and a bound, which the most deadly fear alone could have inspired, Catharine sprung from the sup- porting trunk of the oak, dashed down the precipitous side of the ravine ; now clinging to the bending sprays of the flexile dogwood — now to some fragile birch or poplar — now trusting to the yielding heads of the sweet-scented ceano- thus, or filling her hands with sharp thorns from the roses that clothed the bank ; flowers, grass, all were alike clutched at in her rapid and fearful descent. 62 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. A loose fragment of granite on which she had unwittingly placed her foot rolled from under her; unable to regain her balance she fell for- wards, and was precipitated through the bushes into the ravine below, conscious only of un- speakable terror and an agonising pain in one of her ancles, which rendered her quite powerless. The noise of the stones she had dislodged in her fall and her piteous cries, brought Louis and Hector to her side, and they bore her in their arms to the hut of boughs and laid her down upon her bed of leaves and grass and young pine boughs. When Catharine was able to speak, she related to Louis and Hector the cause of her fright. She was sure it must have been a wolf by his sharp teeth, long jaws, and grisly coat. The last glance she had had of him had filled her with terror, he was standing on a fallen tree with his eyes fixed upon her — she could tell them no more that happened, she never felt the ground she was on, so great was her fright. Hector was half disposed to scoll his sister for rambling over the hills alone, but Louis was full of tender compassion for la oelle cotisine, and would not suffer her to be chidden. Fortu- nately, no bones had been fractured, though the sinews of her ankle were severely sprained ; but the pain was intense, and after a sleepless night, ! i. I : > THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 63 lich she had from under she fell for- 1 the hushes >nly of un- ain in one of e powerless, odged in her t Louis and her in their d her down I young pine to speak, she jause of her been a wolf grisly coat, n had filled a fallen tree could tell ver felt the fright. 1 his sister t Louis was lie cousine, en. Fortu- though the rained; but pless night, tlie boys found to their grief and dismay, that Catharine was unable to put her foot to the ground. This was an unlooked-for aggravation of their misfortunes ; to pursue their wandering was for the present impossible; rest was their only remedy, excepting the application of such cool- ing medicaments as circumstances would supply - them with. Cold water constantly applied to the swollen joint, was the first thing that was suggested ; but, simple as was the lotion, it was not easy to obtain it in sufficient quantities. They were a full quarter of a mile from the lake shore, and the cold springs near it were yet further off; and then the only vessel they had was the tin-pot, which hardly contained a pint ; at the same time the thirst of the fevered sufibrer was intolerable, and had also to be provided for. Poor Catharine, what unexpected misery she now endured ! The valley and its neighboming hills abounded i. in strawberries ; they were now ripening in abun- dance ; the ground was scarlet in places with this delicious fruit; they proved a blessed relief to the poor sufferer's burning thirst. Hector and Louis were unwearied in supplying her with them. Louis, ever fertile in expedients, crushed the i cooling fruit and applied them to the sprained foot ; rendering the application still more gi-ateful ■3W 64 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. by spreading them upon the large smooth leaves of the sapling oak ; these he bound on with strips of the leathery baik of the moose-wood,* which he had found growing in great abundance near the entrance of the ravine. Hector, in the mea 'ime, was not idle. After having collected a gooG supply of ripe strawberries, he climbed the i.dls in search of birds' eggs anr small game. About noon he returned with the good news of having discovered a spring of fine water in an adjoining ravine, beneath a clump of bass-wood and black cherry-trees ; he had also been sc vtunate as to kill a woodchuck, having met with many of their burrows in the gravelly sides of the hills. The woodchuck seems to be a link between the rabbit and badger ; its colour is that of a leveret ; it climbs like the racoon and burrows like the rabbit ; its eyes are large, full, and dark, the lip cleft, 'he soles of the feet naked, claws sharp, ears short ; it feeds on grasses, grain, fruit, and berries. The flesh is white, oily, L^d, in the summer, rank, but is eaten in the fall by the Indinns and woodsmen ; the skin is not much valued. They are easily killed by dogs, though, being ♦ " Dire X .>ah s'-rrs," — Moose-wood. American mezereon, leathev^vood. From ti'e Greek, dirka, a fouutain or wet place, its xxhwd place of i,j*owth. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 65 Looth leaves 1 with strips ood,* wliicli ndance near tor, in the g collected a he climbed anr small th the good •ing of fine ith a clump ies ; he had woodchuck, 'rows in the I woodchuck rabbit and ct ; it climbs rabbit ; its ip cleft, 'he ears short; and berries. le summer, ,he Indiiins uch valued. «ough, being •ican mezereon, juutain or wet expert climbers, they often baffle their enemies, clinging to the bark beyond their reach ; a stone or stick well-aimed soon kills them, but they often bite sharply. The woodchuck proved a providential supply, and Hector cheered his companions with the assurance that they could not starve, as there were plenty of these creatures to be found. They had seen one or two about the Cold Springs, but they are less comn^'^ in the deep forest lands than on the drier, more open plains. " It is a great pity we have no larger vessel to bring our water from the spring in," said Hector, looking at the tin-pot, " one is so apt to stumble among stones and tangled under- wood. If we had only one of our old bark dishes we could get a good supply at once." " There is a fallen birch not far from this," said Louis; " I have here my trusty knife ; what is there to hinder uf-. from manufacturing a vessel capable of Loading water, a gallon if you like ? " " How can you sew it together, cousin?" jisked Catharine ; " you have neither deer sinews, nor war-tap." [The Indian name for ihe flexible roots of the tamarack, or swamj) larch, which they make use of in manufacturing the birch oaskets and canoes.] F GO THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. " I have a substitute at hand, ma belle," and Louis pointed to the strips of leatherwood that he had collected for binding the dressings on liis cousin's foot. When an idea once struck Louis, lie never rested till he worked it out in some way. In a few minutes he was busily employed, stripping sheets of the ever-useful birch-bark from the trunk that had fallen at the foot of the " Wolf's Crag," for so the children had named the memo- rable spot where poor Catharine's accident had occurred. The rough outside coatings of tlie bark, which are of silvery whiteness, but arc ragged from exposure to the action of the weatlicr in the larger and older trees, he peeled off, and then cutting the bark so that the sides lapped well over, and the corners were secured from cracks, he proceeded to pierce holes opposite to each other, and with some trouble managed to stitch them tightly together, by drawing strips of the moose or leather- wood throiigli and through. Tlie first attem])t, of course, was but rude and ill-shaped, but it answered the j)ur- pose, and only leaked a little at the corners for want of a sort of flap, which he had forgotten to allow in cutting out the bark ; this flap in the Indian baskets and disl curns up, and THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 67 clle," and wood that jssings on , he never way. In 1, stripping k from the ^e " Wolf's L the memo- ccident had the hark, are ragged weather in >\cd off, and ndes lapped ceured from opposite to I managed to siwing strips hroiigli and Lrse, was but [c'd the pur- corners for |ad forgotten this flap in Irns up, and 4 keeps all tight and close. The defect lie re- medied in his subsequent attempts. In spite of its deficiencies, Louis's water- jar Avas looked upon with great admiration, and highly com- mended by Catharine, who almost forgot her sufferings wliilc watching her cousin's pro- ceedings. Louis was elated by liis own successful ingenuity, and was for running off directly to the spring. " Catharine shall now have cold water to bathe her poor ancle with, and to quench her thirst," he said, joyfully springing to his feet, ready for a start up the steep bank ; but Hector quietly restrained his lively cousin, by suggesting the possibility of his not finding the " fountain in the wilderness," as Louis termed the spring, or losing himself alto- gether. " Let us both go together, then," cried Louis. Catharine cast on her cousin an inq)loring glance. " Do not leave me, dear Louis ; Hector, do not let me be left alone." Her sorrowful appeal stayed the steps of the volatile Tjouis. " Go you, Hector, as you know the way ; I will not leave you, Kate, since I was the cause of all you have suffered; 1 will abide by you in joy or in sorrow till I see ()0 THE CANADIAN CJiUSOES. you once more safe in your own dear mother's arms. Comforted by this assurance, Catharine quickly dashed away the gathering tears from her cheeks, and eliid her own foolish fears. " But you know, dear c »usin," she said, " I am so helpless, and then the dread of that horrible wolf makes a coward of me." After some little time had elnpsed, lieelor returned ; the bark vessel had done its duty to admiration, it only wanted a very little im- ])rovement to make it complete. The water was cold and pure. Hector had spent a little time in deepening the mouth of the spring, and plachig some stones about it. He described tlie ravine as being much deeper and wider, and more gloomy than the one they occupied. The sides and bottom were clothed with magnificent oaks. It was a grand sight, he said, to stand on the jutting spurs of this great ravine, and look down upon the tops of the trees that lay below, tossing their rounded heads like the waves of a big sea. There were many lovely flowers, vetches of several kinds, blue, white, and pen- cilled, twining among the grass. A beautiful white-belled flower, that was like the " Morning- glory," {Convolvulus major,) and scarlet-cups* in • Eri chroma, or painted-ctip. THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. (;{) T motlier's Catharine . tears from fears. Hi said, " 1 ad of tliat sed, ilet'ior 3 its duty to r little im- Thc water pent a little spring, and le described d wider, and upied. The magnificent to stand on le, and look at lay below, he waves ot vrely flowers, ite, and pen- A beautiful he "Morning irlet-cups* in abundance, with roses in profusion. The bottom of this ravine was strewed in places witli huge blocks of black granite cushioned with thick green moss ; it opened out into a Avide flat, similar to the one at the mouth of tlie valley of the Big Stone. ''^ These children were i|ot iiiseitsJIile fo the beauties of nature, and both Hector and his sister liad insensil)ly imbi^ d a love of the grand and i}if> |;icturesfjue, hy listening witli untiring iuterest to their father's animated and enthusiastic dcscrijjtions of liis Jlighland home, and the wild njountainous »^ enery that sur- rounded it. Though brought up in solitude and uneducated, yet there was nothing vulgar or rude in the minds or maimers of these young people. Simple and untaught they were, but they were guileless, earnest, and unsophisti- ca ^d ; and if they lacked the knowledge that is learned from books, they possessed much that was useful and practical, wliich had been taught by experience and observation in the school of necessity. For several days the pain and fever arising from her sprain rendered any attempt at * The mouth of th^ ravine ia now under the plough, and waving fields of golden grain and verdant pastures have taken place of the wild shrubs and flowers that formei-ly adorned it. The lot belongs to G. Ley, Esq. 70 THE CANADIAN CIIUSOES. ■' i I ■i I removing Catharine from the valley of the " Big Stone " impracticable. Tlie ripe fruit began to grow less abundant in their immediate vicinity, and neither woodcliuck, partridge, nor squirrel liad been killed ; and our poor wanderers now endured the agonising pains of hunger. Con- tinual exposure to the air by night and by day contributed not a little to increase the desire for food. It is true, there was the yet untried lake, " bright, boundless, and free," gleaming in silvery splendour, but in practice they knew nothing of the fisher's craft, though, as a matter of report, they were well acquainted with all the mysteries of it, and had often listened with delight to the feats performed by their respective fathers in the art of angling, spearing and netting. " I have heard my father say, that so bold and numerous were the fish in the lakes and rivers he was used to fish in, that they could ])c taken by the hand, with a crooked pin and coarse thread, or wooden spear ; but that was in the lower province ; and oh, what glorious tales I have heard him tell of spearing fish by torch- light ! " " The fish may be wiser or not so numerous in this lake," said Hector; " however, if Kate can bear to be moved, we will go down to the shore THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 71 the " Big began to 1 vicinity, r sfjuirrel ercrs now 3r, Con- and ]jy reasc the s the yet nd free," 1 practice t, though, Lcquainted liad often brmed by f angling, so bold akes and ley could pin and lat was in ious tales by torch- numerous Kate can the shore and try our luck ; but A\1iat can we do? we have neither hook nor line prov'lcd," Louis nocUknl liis head, and sitting down on a projecting rorit ov a scrub oak, produced IVom tlie depths ot" his capacious pocket a bit of tin, wliich lie carefully selected from among a miscellaneous hoard of treasures. '• Here," said he, holding it up to the view as he spoke ; " here is the slide of an old powder-flask, which I picked up from among some rubbish that my sister had thrown out the other day." " 1 fear yoii will make nothing of that," said Hector, "a bit of bone would be better. If you liad a file now, you might do something." " Stay a moment. Monsieur Hec, what do you call this?" and Louis triumphantly handed out of his pocket the very instrument in ques- tion, a few inches of a broken, rusty file ; very rusty, indeed, it was, but still it might be made to answer in such ingenious hands as those of our young French Canadian. " I well remember, Katty, how you and Mathilde laughed at me for treasuring up this old thing months ago. Ah, Louis, Louis, you little knew the use it was to be put to then," he added thoughtfully, apostrophising himself; " how little do we know what is to befal us in our young days !" ,.^... IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) .<^% M />V<* y_ c/< % ^. 1.0 1.1 11.25 no "^^ IMHM itt 1^ 12.2 S? 144 ■" ^ y£ 12-0 H)uu m LA. I lA - 6" ^ r ^j»*' ^» Photographic Sciences Corporalion 33 WIST MAIN STRUT WnSTIR.N.Y. USM (716) •73-4503 Mi ':> 1 72 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. m .ii,,, M M ■i hn 'ill " God knows it all," said Hector, gravely, " we are under His good guidance." " You are right, Hec, let us trust in His mercy and He will take good care of us. Come, let us go to the lake," Catharine added, and sprung to her feet, but as quickly sunk down upon the grass, and regarded her companions with a pite- ous look, saying, " I cannot walk one step ; alas, alas ! what is to become of me ; I am only a useless burden to you. If you leave me here, I shall fall a prey to some savage beast, and you cannot carry m-^. with you in your search for food." " Dry your tf ars, sweet cousin, you shall go with us. Do you think that Hector or Louis would abandon you in your helpless state, to die of hunger or thirst, or to be torn by wolves or bears ? We will carry you by turns ; the distance to the lake is nothing, and you are not so very heavy, ma belle cousine ; see, I could dance with you in my arms, you are so light a burden," — and Louis gaily caught the suffering girl up in his arms, and with rapid steps struck into the deer path that wound thrr^tgh the ravine towards the lake, but when they reached a pretty rounded knoll, (where Wolf Tower* now stands,) Louis was fain to place his cousin on a flat stone beneatli * See account of the " Wolf Tower," in the Appendix. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ^.3 r, gravely, His mercy ome, let us md sprung 1 upon tlie vith a pite- step ; alas, am only a e me here, st, and you search for ou shall go )r or Louis state, to die Y wolves or he distance not so very dance with burden," — y girl up in ick into the ine towards tty rounded nds,) Louis one beneath 3 Appendix. a big oak that grew besid*^- the bank, and fling himself on the flowery ground at her feet, while he drew a long breath, and gathered the fruit that gi-ew among the long grass to refresh him- self after his fatigue ; and then, while resting on the " Elfin Knowe," as Catharine called the hill, he employed himself with manufacturing a rude sort of fish-hook vv^itli the aid of his knife, the bit of tin, and the rusty file ; a bit of twine was next produced, — boys have always a bit of string in their pockets, and Louis, as I have before hinted, was a provident hoarder of such small matters. The string was soon attached to the hook, and Hector was not long in cutting a sapling that answered well the purpose of a fishing-rod, and thus equipped they proceeded to the lake shore. Hector and Louis carrying tho crippled Catharine by turns. When ther,e, they selected a sheltered spot beneath a grove of over-hanging cedars and birches, festooned with wild vines, which, closely woven, formed a natural bower, quite impervious to the rays of the sun. A clear spring flowing from the upper part of the bank among the hanging network of loose fibres and twisted roots, fell tinkling over a mossy log at her feet, and quietly spread itself among the round shingly pebbles that formed the beach of the lake. Beneath this pleasant bower 74 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. i: ' I ' •ill li i:! I ! t Catharine coalcl repose, and watch hev com- panions at their novel employment, or bathe her feet and infirm ancle in the cool streamlet that rippled in tiny wavelets over its stony bed. If the amusement of fishing prove pleasant and exciting when pursued for pastime only, it may readily be conceived that its interest must be greatly heightened when its object is satis- fying a craving degree of hunger. Among the sunny spots on the shore, innumerable swarms of the flying grasshopper or field crickets were sporting, and one of these proved an attractive bait. The line was no sooner cast into the w^ater, than the hook was seized, and many were the brilliant specimens of sun-fish that our eager fishermen cast at Catharine's feet, all gleaming with gold and azure scales. Nor was there any lack of perch, or that delicti ie fish commonly known in these waters as the pink roacli. Tired at last with their easy sport, the hungry boys next proceeded to the grateful task of scaling and dressing their fish, and this they did very expeditiously, as soon as the more difficult part, that of kindling up a fire on the beach, had been accomplished with the help of the flint, knife, and dried rushes. The fish were tlien suspended, Indian fashion, on forked sticks stuck THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 75 1 her coin- it, or bathe ol streamlet r its stony )ve pleasant ;ime only, it nterest must ject is satis- Among the able swarms crickets were an attractive ;ast into the d many were hat our eager all gleaming ^as there any h commonly [•oach. t, the hungry eful task of this they did more difficult le beach, had of the flint, ^h were then d sticks stuck in the ground and inclined at a suitable angle towards the glowing embers, — a few minutes sufficed to cook them. " Truly," said Catharine, when tlie plentiful repast was set before her, " God hath, indeed, spiccid a table for us here in tlie wilderness ;" so miraculous did this ample supply of delicious food seem in the eyes of this simple . child of nature. They had often heard tell of the facility with which the fish could be caught, but they had known nothing of it from their own experience, as the streams and creeks about Cold Springs af- forded them but little opportunity for exercising their skill as anglers ; so thr.t, with the nide im- plements with wliich they were furnished, tlie result of their morning success seemed little short of divine interference in their behalf. Happy and contented in the belief that they were not forgotten by their heavenly Father, these poor " children in the wood " looked up with gratitude to that beneficent Being who suftereth not even a sparrow to fall unheeded. Upon Catharine, in particular, these things made a deep impression, and there as she sat in the green shade, soothed by the lulling sound of ^ the flowing waters, and the soft murmuring of j the many-coloured insects that hovered among ,1 7G THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ill "'"' ■■ i. ■J.j •i| ii< U ! tlic fragi'aiit leaves which thatched her sylvan bower, her young heart was raised in humble and holy aspirations to the great Creator of all things living. A peaceful calm diffused itself over her mind, as with hands meekly folded across her breast, the young girl prayed with the guile- less fervour of a trusting and faithful heart. The sun was just sinking in a flood of glory behind the dark pine-woods at the head of the lake, when Hector and Louis, who had been carefully providing fish for the morrow, (which was the Sabbath,) came loaded with their finny prey carefully strung upon a willow wand, and found Catharine sleeping in her bower. Louis was loth to break her tranquil slumbers, but her careful brother reminded him of the danger to which she was exposed, sleeping in the dew by the water side ; " Moreover," he added, " we have some distance to go, and we have left the pre- cious axe and the birch -bark vessel in the valley." These things were too valuable to be lost, and so they roused the sleeper, and slowly recom- menced their toilsome way, following the same path that they had made in the morning. Fortu- nately, Hector had taken the precaution to bend down the flexile branches of the dogwood and break the tops of the young trees that they had THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. n her sylvan in humble reator of all fFused itself folded across ;h the guile- 1 heart, ood of glory head of the 10 had been rrow, (which h their finny V wand, and ower. Louis bers, but her le danger to . the dew by id, " w^e have left the pre- esscl in the ) be lost, and owly recom- ing the same tiing. Fortu- ition to bend logwood and ;hat they had passed between on their route to the lake, and by this clue tlicy were enabled with tolerable certainty to retrace their way, nothing doubting of arriving in time at the wigwam of boughs by the rock in the valley. Their progress was, however, slow, burdened with the care of the lame girl, and heavily laden with the fish. The purple shades of twilight soon clouded the scene, deepened by the heavy masses of foliage, which cast a greater degree of obscurity upon their naiTOW path ; for they had now left the oak-flat and entered the gorge of the valley. The utter loneliness of the path, the grotesque shadows of the trees, that stretched in long array across the steep banks on either side, taking, now this, now that wild and fanci- ful shape, awakened strange feelings of dread in the mind of these poor forlorn wanderers ; like most persons bred up in solitude, their imagina- tions were strongly tinctured with superstitious fears. Here then, in the lonely wilderness, far from their beloved parents and social hearth, with no visible arm to protect them from danger, none to encourage r r to cheer them, can it be matter of surprise if they started with terror- blanched cheeks at every fitful breeze that rustled the leaves or waved the branches above them ? 78 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. • ! I r\ n ■:\ ti i hi The gay and lively Louis, blithe as any wild l)ird in the bright sunlight, was the most easily oppressed by this strange superstitious fear, when the shades of evening were closing round, and he would start with ill-disguised ten*or at every sound or shape that met his ear or eye, though the next minute he was the first to laugh at his own weakness. In Hector, the feeling was of a graver, more solemn cast, recalling to his mind all "the wild and wondrous tales with which his father was wont to entertain the children, as they crouched round the huge log-fire of an evening. It is strange tlie charm these marvel- lous tales possess for the youthful mind, no matter how improbable, or how often told; year after ye^r they will be listened to with the same ardour, with an interest that appears to grow with repetition. And still, as they slowly wandered along. Hector would repeat to his breathless auditors those Highland legends that were as familiar to their ears as household words, and still they listened with fear and wonder, and deep awe, till at each pause he made, the deep- drawn breath and half-repressed shudder might be heard. And now the little party paused irre- solutely, fearing to proceed, — they had omitted to notice some land-mark in their progress ; the mo xi had not long been up, and her light was THE CANADIAN CIUJSOES. ■9 as any wild i most easily us fear, when g round, and rror at every eye, though laugh at his ling was of a r to his mind ith which his children, as Dg-fire of an these marvel- ful mind, no ten told; year with the same .cars to grow they slowly repeat to his legends that isehold w^ords, . wonder, and ide, the deep- hudder might y paused irre- had omitted progress; the her light was as yet indistinct ; so tliey sat them down on a little grassy spot on the bank, and rested till the moon should liglitcn their path. Louis was confident they were not far from "the higstone," but careful Hector had his doubts, and Catharine was weary. The children had already conceived a sort of home feeling for the valley and the mass of stone that had sheltered them for so many nights, and soon the dark mass came in sight, as the broad full light of the now risen moon fell upon its rugged sides ; they were nearer to it than they had imagined. " Forward for ' the big stone ' and the wig- »» " look there, '5 wam, cried Louis. " Hush I " eaid Catharine, raising her hand with a warning gesture. "Where? what?" " The wolf! the wolf! " gasped out tlie terrified girl. There indeed, upon the summit of the block, in the attitude of a sentinel or watcher, stood the gaunt-figured animal, and as she spoke, a long wild cry, the sound of which seemed as if it came midway between the earth and the tops of the tall pines on the lofty ridge abov^ them, struck terror into their hearts, as with speechless horror they gazed upon the dark outline of the terrible beast. There it stood, with its head raised, its neck stretched 80 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. if i! 1 1 t!l H W . :lii f] '' I'll! Ai outward, and cars erect, as if to catch the cclio that gave back those dismal sounds ; anotlicr minute and he was gone, and the crushing of brandies and the rusli of many feet on the liigh bank above, was followed by the prolonged cry of some poor fugitive animal, — a doe, or fawn, perhaps, — in the very climax of mortal agony; and then the lonely recesses of the forest took up that fearful death-cry, the far- off shores of the lake and the distant islands prolonged it, and the terrified children clung together in fear and trembling. A few minutes over, and all was still. The chase had turned across the hills to some dis- tant ravine ; the wolves were all gone — not even the watcher was left, and the little valley lay once more in silence, with all its dewy roses and sweet blossoms glittering in the moonlight ; but though around them all was peace and love- liness, it was long ere confidence was restored to the hearts of the panic-stricken and trembling children. They beheld a savage enemy in every mass of leafy shade, and every rustling bough struck fresh ten*ors into their excited minds. They might have exclaimed with the patriarch Jacob, " How dreadful is this place !" With hand clasped in hand, they sat them down among the thick covert of the bushes, for THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 81 -h tlic cclio ds; another crushing of feet on the le prolonged — a doe, or ,x of mortal isses of the jry, the far- ^tant islands ildren clung s still. The to some dis- 11 gone — not little valley ;s dewy roses (C moonlight ; ace and love- as restored to d trembling |emy in every stling bough cited minds. Ithe patriarch el Ley sat them e bushes, for now they feared to move forward, lest the wolves should return; sleep was long a stranger to tlieir watcliful eyes, each fearing to be the only one left awtikc, and long and painful was their vigil. Yet nature, overtasked, at Icngtli gave way, and sleep came down upon their eyelids ; deep, un- broken sleep, which lasted till the broad sunlight breaking through the leafy curtains of their forest-bed, and the sound of waving boughs and twittering birds, once more wakened them to life and light ; recalling them from happy dreams of home and friends, to an aching sense of lone- liness and desolation. This day they did not wander far from the valley, but took the precau- tion, as evening drew on, to light a large fire, the blaze of which they thought would keep away any beast of prey. They had no want of food, as the fish they had caught the day before proved an ample supply. The huckle-berries were ripening too, and soon afforded them a never-failing source of food; there were also an abundance of bilberries, the sweet rich berries of which proved a great treat, besides being very nourishing. G 82 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. l! I .1.1 ! 1,1 « « -Ml 'im' ;■; Ml .il'!..::l CIIAPTEE III. " Oh for a lodge in the vast wiklcrncsa, The boundless contiguity of shade ! " A FORTNIGHT had now passed, and Catharine still suffered so much from pain and fever, tliat they were unable to continue their wanderings ; all that Hector and his cousin could do, was to carry her to the bower by the lake, where she reclined whilst they caught fish. The pain- ful longing to regain their lost home had lost nothing of its intensity; and often would the poor sufferer start from her bed of leaves and boughs, to wring her hands and weep, and call in piteous tones upon that dear father and mother, who would have given worlds had they been at their command, to have heard but one accent of her beloved voice, to have felt one loving pressure from that fevered hand. Hope, the consoler, hovered over the path of the young wanderers, long after she had ceased to whisper comfort to the desolate hearts of the mournful parents. Of all that suffered by this sad calamity, no THE CANADIAN CIIUSOKS. sa I" lI Catliariiic fever, that wanderings; aid do, was lake, where . The pain- me had lost 1 would the leaves and lep, and call father and ,ds had they ard but one lave felt one [and. Hope, jof the young |d to whisper ;he mournful calamity, no one was more to be pitied than Louis Perron ; deeply did tlie poor boy h\ment tlie thouglitless folly which had involved his cousin Catharine in so terrible a misfortune. " If Kate had not been with me," he would say, " we should n<»t have been lost; for Hector is so cautious and so careful, he would not have left the cattle-path ; but wc were so heedless, we thought only of flowers and insects, of birds, and such trifles, and paid no heed to our way." Louis Perron, such is life. The young press gaily onward, gathering the flowers, and following the gay butterflies jj that attract them in the form of pleasure and amusement; they forget the grave counsels of the thoughtful, till they And the path they hav<' followed is beset with briers and thorns ; and u thousand painful difficulties that were unseen, unexpected, overwhelm and bring them to a sad sense of their own folly; and perhaps the punish- ment of their errors does not fall upon themselves alone, but upon the innocent, who have unknow- ingly been made participators in their fault. By the kindest and tenderest attention to all her comforts, Louis endeavoured to alleviate his cousin's sufferings, and soften her regrets; nay, he would often speak cheerfully and even gaily to her, when his own heart was heavy, and his eyes ready to overflow with tears. 84 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 4 4. In 1 1| "If it were not for our dear parents and tlie dear children at home," he would say, " we miglit spend our time most happily upon these cliarming plains ; it is much more delightful here than in the dark thick woods ; see how brightly the sunbeams come down and gladden the ground, and cover the earth with fruit and flowers. It is pleasant to be able to fish and hunt, and trap the game. Yes, if they were all here, we would build us a nice log-house, and clear up these bushes on the flat near the lake. This " Elfin Knowe," as you call it, Kate, would be a nice spot to build upon. See these glorious old oaks; not one should be cut down, and we would have a boat and a canoe, and voyage across to yonder islands. Would it not be charming, ma belle?" and Catharine, smiling at the picture drawn so eloquently, would enter into the spirit of the project, and say, — " Ah! Louis, that would be pleasant." " If we had but my father's rifle now," said Hector, " and old Wolfe." " Yes, and Fanchette, dear little Fanchette, that trees the partridges and black squirrels," said Louis. " I saw a doe and a half-grown fawn beside her this very morning, at break of day," said Hector. *' The fawn was so little fearful, that THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 85 irents and say, " we ipon these glitful here w brightly :he ground, iowers. It t, and trap i, we would r up these 'his " Elfin > a nice spot I oaks; not ^uld have a to yonder mahelle?" e drawn so Dirit of the •)i mt. now," said Fanchette, . squirrels," •awn heside day," said fearful, that if I had had a stick in my hand, I could liave killed it. I came within ten yards of the spot where it stood. I know it would be easy to catch one by making a dead-fall." [A sort of trap in which game is taken in the woods, or on tlie banks of creeks.] " If Ave had but a dear fawn to frolic about us, like Mignon, dear innocent Mignon," cried Catharine, " I should never feel lonely then." " And we should never want for meat, if we could catch a fine fawn from time to time, ma belle." " Hec, what are you thinking of?" " I was thinking, Louis, that if we were doomed to remain here all our lives, we must build a house for ourselves ; we could not live in the open air without shelter as we have done. The summer will soon pass, and the rainy season will come, and the bitter frosts and snows of winter will have to be provided against." " But, Hector, do you really think there is no chance of finding our way back to Cold Springs? We know it must be behind this lake," said Louis. " True, but whether east, west, or sojith, we canno*^^ tell: and whichever way we take now is but a chance, and if once we leave the lake and get involved in the mazes of that dark ■i!'ll' 86 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. '• •"lid, if f(Drest, we should perish, for we know there is ncitlier water nor berries, nor game to be had as there is here, and we might be soon starved to death. God was good who led us beside this line lake, and upon these fruitful plains." " It is a good thing that I had my axe when we started from home," said Hector. " We should not have been so well off without it ; we shall find the use of it if we have to build a house. We must look out for some spot where there ;s a spring of good water, and — " "No horrible wolves," interrupted Catharine: " though I love this pretty ravine, and the banks and braes about us, I do not think I shall like to stay here. I heard the wolves only last night, wlien you and Louis were asleep." " We must not forget to keep watch-fires." " What shall we do for clothes?" said Catha- rine, glancing at her home-spun frock of wool and cotton plaid. " A weighty consideration, indeed," sighed Hector; " clothes must be provided before ours are worn out, and the winter comes on." " We must save all the skins of the wood- chucks and squiiTcls," suggested Louis; " and fawns when we catch them." " Yes, and fawns when we get them," added Hector; " but it is time enough to think of all THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 87 V there is to be had )n starved beside this n IS. axe when )r. (( We out it; we to build a pot where Catharine : . the banks shall like last night, h-fires." aid Catha- k of wool n sighed efore ours M the wood- and Ins; 1," added ink of all these things; we must not give up all hope of home." " I give up all hope? I shall hope on while I have life," said Catharine. " My dear, dear father, he will never forget his lost children ; he will try and find us, alive or dead ; he will never give up the search." Poor child, how long did this hope burn like a living torch in thy guileless breast. How often, as they roamed those hills and valleys, were thine eyes sent into the gloomy recesses of the dark ravines and thick bushes, with the hope that they would meet the advancing form and outstretched arms of thy earthly parents: all in vain — yet the arms of thy heavenly Father were exten^lcd over thee, to guide, to guard, and to sustain thee. How often were Catharine's hands filled with wild-flowers, to cany home, as she fondly said, to sick Louise, or her mother. Poor Catharine, how often did your bouquets fade; how often did the sad exile water them with her tears, — for hers was the hope that keeps alive despair. When they roused them in the morning to recommence their fruitless wanderings, they would say to each other: " Perhaps we shall see our father, he may find us here to-day;" but evening came, and still he came not, and they 88 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. \", n : :1i were no nearer to their father's home than they had been the day previous. " If we could but find our way back to tlie * Cold Creek,' we might, by following its course, return to Cold Springs," said Hector. " I doubt much the fact of the ' Cold Creek ' having any connexion with our Spring," said Louis; "I think it has its rise in the ' Beaver- meadow,' and following its course would only en- tangle us among those wolfish balsam and cedar swamps, or lead us yet further astray into the thick recesses of the pine forest. For my part, I believe we arc already fifty miles from Cold Springs." It is one of the bewildering mistakes that all persons who lose their way in the pathless woods fall into, they have no idea of distance, or the points of the compass, unless they can see the sun rise and set, which is not possible to do when surrounded by the dense growth of forest- trees ; they rather measure distance by the time they have been wandering, than by any other token. The children knew that they had been a long time absent from home, wandering hither and thither, and they fancied their journey had been as long as it h^d been -v/eary. They had indeed the comfort of seeins: the sun in his course from THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 89 than they ack to the its course, )ld Creek ' fing," said 1 * Beaver- Id only en- i and cedar ly into the )r my part, from Cold tes that all iless woods ice, or the an see the ible to do 1 of forest- y the time any other een a long lither and r had been lad indeed )urse from •<-', * east to west, but tliey knew not in what dh-ection the home they had lost lay ; it was this that troubled them in their choice of the course they should take each day, and at last determined them to lose no more time so fruitlessly, where the peril was so great, but seek for some pleasant spot where they might pass their time in safety, and provide for their present and future wants. " The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide." Catharine declared her ancle was so much stronger than it had been since the accident, and her health so much amended, that the day after the conversation just recorded, the little party bade farewell to the valley of the " big stone," and ascending the steep sides of the hills, bent their steps eastward, keeping the lake to their left hand ; Hector led the way, loaded with their houshold utensils, which consisted only of the axe, which he would trust to no one but himself, the tin-pot, and the bircli-basket. Louis had liis cousin to assist up the steep banks, likewise some fish to carry, which had been caught early in the morning. The wanderers thought at first to explore the gi'ound near the lake shore, but soon abandoned this resolution, on finding the under-growth of 90 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I r'' T ■ E -il iili: '4 ' ■■'; I 'VI trees and bushes become so thick, that tliey made little progress, and the fatigue of travelling was greatly increased by having continually to put aside the bushes or bend them down. Hector advised trying the higher ground; and after followin'^ a deer-path through a small ravine that crossed the hills, they found them- selves on a fine extent of table-land, richly, but not too densely wooded with white and black oaks, diversified with here and there a solitary pine, which reared its straight and pillar-like trunk in stately grandeur above its leafy companions ; a meet eyrie for the bald-eagle, that kept watch from its dark crest over the silent waters of the lake, spread below like a silver zone studded with emeralds. In their progress, they passed the head of many small ravines, which divided the hilly shores of the lake into deep furrows , these' fur- rows had once been channels, by which the waters of some upper lake (the site of which is now dry land) had at a former period poured down into the valley, filling the basin of what now is called the Rice Lake. These waters with re- sistless course had ploughed their way between the hills, bearing in their course those blocks of granite and limestone which are so widely scat- tered both on the hill-tops and the plains, or m THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 91 , that they )f travelling itinually to [own. ! ler ground; ugh a small found them- L, richly, but ;e and Hack re a solitary lar-like trunk companions ; it kept watch waters of the zone studded the head of led the hilly s; these^fur- ly which the |e of which is leriod poured of what now aters with re- way "between .ose blocks of widely scat- the plains, or form a rocky pavement at the bottom of tlie narrow defiles. What a sight of sublime deso- lation must that outpouring of the waters have presented, when those steep banks were riven by the sweeping torrents that were loosened from their former bounds. Tlie pleased eye rests upon these tranquil shores, now covered with oaks and pines, or waving with a flood of golden grain, or varied by neat dwellings and fruitful gardens ; and the gazer on that peaceful scene scarcely pictures to himself what it must have been when no living eye was there to mark the rushing floods, when they scooped to them- selves the deep bed in which they now repose. Those lovely islands that sit like stately crowns upon the waters, were doubtless the Wreck that remained of the valley; elevated $pots, whose rocky basis withstood the force of the rushing waters, that carried away the lighter portions of the soil. The southern shore, seen ji'om the lake, seems to lie in regular ridges funning from south to north ; some few are )arallel with the lake-shore, possibly where some ^isurmountable impediment turned the current ^f the subsiding waters; but they all find an mtlet through their connexion with ravines lommunicating with the lake. There is a beautiful level tract of lard, with 92 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. r^ ^' -i^'M, li i! only here and there a solitary oak growing upon it, or a few stately pines; it is commonly called the " upper Race-course," merely on account of the smoothness of the surface ; it forms a high table- land, nearly three hundred feet above the lake, and is surrounded by high hills. This spot, though now dry and covered witli turf and flowers, and low bushes, has evidently once been a broad sheet of water. To the eastward lies a still more lovely and attractive spot, known as the "lower Race-course ;" it lies on a lower level than the former one, and, like it, is embanked by a ridge of distant hills ; both have ravines leading down to the Rice Lake, and may have been the sources from whence its channel was filled. Some convulsion of nature at a remote period, by raising the waters above their natural level, might have caused a disruption of the banks, and drained their beds, as they now appear ready for the ploughshare or the spade. In the month of June these flats are brilliant with the splendid blossoms of the enchroma, or painted cup, the azure lupine and snowy trilUum roses scent the evening air, and gTow as if planted by the hand of taste. A carpeting of the small downy saxifrage * with its white silky leaves covers the ground in * Saxifraga nivalis. , THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. oa 7*owlng upon ily called the ccount of tlic a liigli tablc- ove the lake, . This spot, ith turf and tly once been eastward lies pot, known as I a lower level is embanked L have ravines md may have 1 J channel was :e at a remote [6 their natural ■uption of the as they now or the spade. s are brilliant |e enchroma^ or 1 snowy trillium d grow as if i ly saxifrage* the ground in early spring. In the foil, it is red with the briglit berries and dark box-shaped leaves of a species of creej; iig winter-green, that the In- dians call spiceberry; the leaves are highly aromatic, and it is medicinal as well as agreeable to the taste and smell. In the month of July a gorgeous assemblage of martagon lilies take the place of the lupine and trilliums; these splendid lilies vary from orange to the brightest scarlet; various species of sunflowers and co- reojysis next appear, and elegant white pyrolas * scent the air and charm the eye. The delicate lilac and white shrubby asters next ai)pear, and these are followed by the large deep blue gen- tian, and here and there by the elegant fringed gentian.f These are the latest and loveliest of the flowers that adorn this tract of land. It is indeed a garden of nature's own planting, but the wild garden is being converted into fields of grain, and the wild flowers give place to a new race of vegetables, less ornamental, but more useful to man and the races of domes- tic animals that depend upon him for their support. Our travellers, after wandering over this lovely plain, found themselves, at the close of the day, + Pyrola rotundifolia, P. asarifolia. * Geutiaua linearis, G. crenata. 94 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. !i ''ii; at the head of a fine raviiie,* where they had the good fortune to perceive a spring of pure water, oozing beneath some large moss-covered blocks of black waterworn granite; the ground was thickly covered with moss about tlie edges of the spring, and many varieties of flowering shrubs and fruits were scattered along the -^^alley and up the steep sides of the surrounding hills. There were whortleberries, or huckleberries, as they are more usually called, in abundance ; bilberries dead ripe, and falling from the bushes at a touch. The vines that wreathed the low bushes and climbed the trees were loaded with clusters of grapes, but these were yet hard and green; dwarf filberts grew on the dry gravelly sides of the hills, yet the rough prickly calyx that enclosed the nut, filled their fingers with minute thorns, that irritated the skin like the stings of the nettle; but as the kernel when ripe was sweet and good, they did not mind the con- sequences. The moist part of the valley was occupied by a large bed of May-apples,t the fruit of which was of unusual size, but they were not ripe, August being the month when they ripen; there were also wild plums still green, and wild cherries and blackberries ripen- + Kilvert's Ravine, above Pine-tree Point. • PedojohyUum palmata, — Mandrake, or May-apple, \ THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 95 e tliey luul iiig of pvu-c loss-covercd the ground lit the edges of flowering ig the ^'illey Linding liiHa. deLerrics, as aUindance; m the hushes thed the low . loaded with yet hard and dry gravelly >ricldy calyx fingers with skin like the el wdien ripe iiind the con- e valley was .ap])les,t the ze, hut they month when plums still [berries ripen- llay-apple. ing; there were great numbers of the wood- chucks' hurrow^s on the hills, while partridges and quails were seen under the thick covert of the hlue-berried dog-wood,* that here grew in abundance at the mouth of the ravine where it opened to the lake. As this spot offered many advantages, our travellers halted for the night, and resolved to make it their head-quarters for a season, till they should meet with an eligible situation for building ji winter shelter. Here, then, at the head of the valley, sheltered by one of the rounded hills that formed its sides, our young people erected a summer hut, somewhat after the fashion of an Indian wig- wam, which was all the shelter tliat was requisite while the weather remained so w^arm. Through the opening at the gorge of this ravine they enjoyed a peep at the distant waters of the lake which terminatCi^- rhe vista, while they were quite removed from its unwholesome vapom'S. The temperature of the air for some days had been hot and sultry, scarcely modified by the cool delicious breeze that usually sets in about nine o'clock, and blows most refreshingly till four or five in the afternoon. Hector and Louis * Cornus sericea. The blue berries of this shrub are eaten by the partridge and wild-ducks ; also by the pigeons and other birds. There are several species of this shrub common to the Eice Lake. 96 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. liad gone down to fish for supper, while Catharine busied herself in collecting leaves and dried deer-grass, moss and fern, of which there was abundance near the spring. The boys had promised to cut some fresh cedar bouglis near the lake shore, and bring them up to form a founda- tion for their bed, and also to strew Indian- fashion over the floor of the hut by way of a carpet. This sort of carpeting reminds one of the times when the palaces of our English kings were strewed with rushes, and brings to mind the old song : — ** Oh ! the golden days of good Queen Bess, When the floors were strcw'd with rushes, And the doors went on the latch " Despise not then, you, my refined young readers, the rude expedients adopted by these simple children of the forest, wlio knew nothing of the luxuries that were to be met with in the houses of the great and the rich. The fragrant carpet of cedar or hemlock-spruce sprigs strewn lightly over the earthen floor, was to them a luxury as great as if it had been taken from the looms of Persia or Turkey, so happy and contented were they in their ignorance. Their bed of freshly gathered grass and leaves, raised from the earth by a heap of branches carefully arranged, was to them as pleasant as beds of Tin: rANAnrAX cursoKs. 97 c Catharine and dried I there was hoys had ^hs near the m a founda- •ew Indian- >y way of a ahids one of nglish kings iffs to mind n Bess, rushes, jfined young- ted hy these Lnew nothing t with in the The fragrant jprigs strewn as to them taken from happy and lance. Their leaves, raised lies carefully it as beds of down, and tlio rude hut of bark aiul poU's, as curtains of silk or damask. Having collected as nuicli of those materials as slic deemed sufficient for the purpose, Catharine next gathered up dry oak branches, plenty of which lay scattered here and tliere, to make ii watch-fire for the night, and this done, weary and warm, she sat down on a little liillock, beneatli tlie cooling shade of a grove of young aspens, that grew near the hut; pleased with tlie dancing of the leaves, which fluttered above lier head, and fanned her warm cheek with their incessant motion, she thought, like her cousin Louise, that the aspen was tlic merriest tree in the forest, for it was always dancing, dancing, dancing, even when all the rest were still. She watched the gathering of the distant thunder-clouds, which cast a deeper, more sombre ..hade upon the pines that girded the northern shores of the lake as with nn ebon frame. Insensibly her thoughts wandered far away from the lonely spot whereon she sat, to the stoup* in front of her father's house, and in memory's eye she beheld it all exactly as she had left it. There stood the big spinning-wheel, just as she had set it aside ; the hanks of dyed • The Dutch word for verandah, which is still in common use among the Canadians. H " man n nnMi i i. i . i jj.mi i i 98 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ||l- II d: III 'ii yarn suspended from the rafters, the basket filled with the carded wool ready for lier work. She saw in fancy her father, with his fine athletic upright figure, his sunburnt cheeks and cluster- ing sable hair, his clear energetic hazel eye ever beaming upon her, his favourite child, with looks of love and kindness as she moved to and fro at her wheel.* There, too, was her mother, v/ith her light step and sweet cheerful voice, singing as . she pursued her daily avocations ; and Donald and Kenneth driving up the cows to be milked, or chopping firewood. And as these images, like the figures of the magic lantern, passed in all their living colours before her mental vision, her head drooped heavier and lower till it sunk upon her arm, and then she started, looked round, and slept again, her face deeply buried in her young bosom; and long and peacefully the young girl slumbered. A sound of hurrying feet approaches, a wild cry is heard and panting breath, and the sleeper with a startling scream sprang to her feet: she dreamed that she was struggling in the fangs of a wolf — its grisly paws were cLisped about her throat ; the feeling was agony and suffocation — her languid eyes open. Can it be ? — what is it * Such is the method of working at the large wool wheel, unknown or obsolete iu England. s. 3 basket filled f work. She tine athletic I and cluster- lazel eye ever 1 child, with moved to and .8 her mother, tieerful voice, Y avocations; 5 up the cows ►od. And as )f the magic colours before )oped heavier irm, and then jpt again, her bosom; and L slumbered, caches, a wild nd the sleeper her feet: she n the fangs of >ed about her suffocation — \ ? — what is it large wool wheel, ■I I ^•^■^' '•ATU^klWK POL NT) „y r/Ji,; cj.D DOr., >i:ii M Ij lis THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 99 that she sees ? Yes, it is Wolfe ; not the fierce creature of her dreams by night and lier fears by day, but her father's own brave devoted dog. What joy, what hope rushed to her heart ! She threw herself upon the shaggy neck of the faith- ful beast, and wept from the fulness of heart. " Yes," she joyfully cried, " I knew that I should see him again. My own dear, dear, loving father! Father! father! dear, dear father, here are your children. Come, come quickly!" and she hurried to the head of the valley, raising her voice, that the beloved parent, who she now confidently believed was ap- proaching, might be guided to the spot by the well-known sound of her voice. Poor child! the echoes of thy eager voice, prolonged by every projecting headland of the valley, replied in mocking tones, " Come quickly ! " Bewildered she paused, listened breathlessly, and again she called, " Father, come quickly, come!" and again the deceitful sounds were repeated, " Quickly come ! " The faiihful dog, who had succeeded in track- ing the steps of his lost mistress, raised his head and erected his ears, as she called on her father's na .'.e; but he gave no joyful bark of recognition us he was wont to do \/hen he heard 100 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. u V ■i i "'!i<„i ,1 f . 1 ■ ■ ■ his master's step approaching. Still Catharine could not but think that Wolfe had only humed on before, and that her father must be very r.iar. The sound of her voice had been heard by her brother and cousin, who, fearing some evil beast had made its way to the wigwam, hastily wound up their line, and left the fishing-gi'ound to hurry to her assistance. They could hardly believe their eyes when they saw Wolfe, faithful old Wolfe, their earliest friend and playfellow, named by their father after the gallant hero of Quebec. And they too, like Catharine, thought that their friends were not far distant, and joy- fully they climbed the hills and shouted aloud, and Wolfe was coaxed and caressed, and besought to follow them to point out the way they should take: but all their entreaties were in vain; worn out with fatigue and long fasting, the poor old dog refused to quit the embers of the fire, before which he stretched himself, and the boys now noticed his gaunt frame and wasted flesh — he looked almost starved. The fact now became evident that he was in a state of great exhaus- tion. Catharine thought he eyed the spring with wishful looks, and she soon supplied him with water in the bark dish, to his great relief. Wolfe had been out for several days with his THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 101 Catharine ily hurried t be very- heard by some evil am, hastily ing-ground uld hardly ►Ife, faithM playfellow, lant hero of ne, thought it, and joy- )uted aloud, nd besought they should vain; worn he poor old Df the fire, ad the boys sted flesh — now became eat exhaus- the spring applied him rreat relief, lys with his master, who woukl repeat, in tones of sad ear- nestness, to the faithful creature, " Lost, lost, lost!" It was his custom to do so when the cattle strayed, and Wolfe would travel in all directions till he found them, nor ceased liis search till he discovered the objects he was ordered to bring home. The last night of the father's wanderings, when, sick and hopeless, li(^ came back to his melanclioly home, as lie sat sleeplessly rocking himself to and fro, he in- voluntarily exclaimed, wringing his hands, " Lost, lost, lost ! " Wolfe heard what to him was an imperative command; he rose, and stood at the door, and whined; mechanically his mas- ter rose, lifted the latch, and again exclaimed in passionate tones those magic words, that sent the faithful messenger forth into the dark forest path. Once on the trail he never left it, but with an instinct incomprehensible as it was powerful, he continued to track the woods, lin- gering long on spots where the wanderers had left any signs of their sojourn; he had for some time been baffled at the Beaver Meadow, and again where they had crossed Cold Creek, but had regained the scent and traced them to the valley of the " big stone," and then with the sagacity of the bloodhound and the affection of the terrier he had, at last, discovered the 102 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. M m' objects of liis unwearied, though often baffled search. What a state of excitement did the unex- pected arrival of ohl Wv.]fe create ! How many fi[uestion3 were put to the poor beast, as he lay with his head pillowed on the knees of his loving mistress ! Catharine knew it was foolish, but she could not help talking to the dumb animal, as if he had been conversant with her own language. Ah, old Wolfe, if your home- sick nurse could but have interpreted those expressive looks, those eloquent waggings of your bushy tail, as it flapped upon the grass, or waved from side to side; those gentle lickings of the hand, and mute sorrowful glances, as though he would have said, " Dear mistress, I know all your troubles. I know all you say, but I cannot answer you! " There is something touchip'^' in the silent sympathy of the dog, to whicix only the hard-hearted and depraved can be quite insensible. I remember once hearing of a felon, who had shown the greatest obstinacy and callous indifference to the appeals of his relations, and the clergyman that attended him in prison, whose heart was softened by the sight of a little dog, that had been his companion in his days of comparative innocence, forcing its way through the crowd, till it gained the foot of THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 103 [en baffled the unex- How many , as lie lay lees of his vvas foolish, the dumb at with her your home- reted those naggings of the grass, or itle lickings 1 glances, as r mistress, I all you say, is something of the dog, lepraved can )nce hearing est obstinacy leals of his attended him by the sight iompanion in forcing its td the foot of I i the gallows; its mute look of anguisli and affec- tion unlocked the fount of human feeling, and the condemned man wept — perhaps the first tears he had shed since childhood's happy days. The night closed in with a tempest of almost tropical violence. The inky darkness of the sky was relieved, at intervals, by sheets of lurid flame, wiiicli revealed, by its intense brightness, every object far off or near. The distant lake, just seen amid the screen of leaves through the gorge of the valley, gleamed like a sea of molten sulphur ; the deep naiTow defile, shut in by the steep and wooded hills looked deeper, more wild and gloomy, when revealed by that vivid glare of light. There was no stir among the trees, the heavy rounded masses of foliage remained unmoved ; the very aspen, that tremulous sensitive tree, scarcely stirred ; it seemed as if the very pulses of nature were at rest. The solemn murmur that preceded the thunder-peal might have been likened to the moaning of the dying. The children felt the loneliness of the spot. Seated at the entrance of their sylvan hut, in front of which their evening fire burned brightly, they looked out upon the storm in silence and in awe. Screened by the sheltering shrubs that grew near them, they felt comparatively safe from the T^ 104 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. % dangers of the storm, which now burst in temfic violence above the valley. Cloud answered to cloud, and the echoes of the hills prolonged the sound, while shattered trunks and brittle branches filled the air, and shrieked and groaned in that wild war of elements. Between the pauses of the tempest the long howl of the wolves, from their covert in some distant cedar swamp at the edge of the lake, might be heard from time to time, — a sound that always thrilled their hearts with fear. To the mighty thunder-peal that burst above their heads they listened with awe and wonder. It seemed, indeed, to them as if it were the voice of Him who " sendeth out his voice, yea, and that a mighty voice." And they bowed and adored his majesty ; but they shrank with curdled blood from the cry of the felon wolf. And now the storm was at its climax, and the hail and rain came down in a whitening flood upon that ocean of forest leaves ; the old grey branches were lifted up and down, and the stout trunks rent, for they would not bow down before the fury of the whirlwind, and were scattered all abroad like chaff before the wind. The children thought not of danger for them- selves, but they feared for the safety of their IS. iirst in terrific answered to prolonged the and brittle 1 and groaned ipest the long 3vert in some e of the lake, ime,— a sound svith fear. To •st above their d wonder. It f it were the his voice, yea, id they bowed ey shrank with ^ felon wolf. ts climax, and tn a whitening Leaves; the old . down, and the . not bow down ind, and were iff before the anger for them- safety of their THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 105 fathers, whom they believed to be not far off from them. And often 'mid tlie raging of the elements, tliey fancied they could distinguish familiar voices calling upon their names. " If I our father had not been near, Wolfe would not I have come hither." " All, if our father should have perished in this fearful storm," said Catharine, weeping, " or ? have been starved to death while seeking for i us!" and Catharine covered her face and wept more bitterly. But Louis would not listen to such melan- choly forebodings. Their fathers w^ere both brave hardy men, accustomed to every sort of danger and privation ; they were able to take care of themselves. Yes, he was sure they were not far off ; it was this unlucky storm coming on that had prevented them from meeting. '^ To-morrow, ma clibre, will be a glorious day after the storm; it will be a joyful one too, we shall go out with Wolfe, and he will find his master, and then — oh, yes! I dare say my dear father will be with yours. They will have taken good heed to the track, and we shall soon pee our dear mothers and cli5re petite Louise." i The storm lasted till past midnight, when it gradually subsided, and the poor wanderers sWere glad to see the murky clouds roll off, and 100 Till-: CANADIAN CRUSOF.!?. U i- ;i- ' I IS' the stars peep fortli among their broken masses ; but they were reduced to a pitiful state, the hurricane liaving beaten down their little hut, and their garments were drenched with rain. How- ever, the boys made a good fire with some bark and boughs they had in store ; there were a few sparks in their back log unextinguished, and this they gladly fanned up into a blaze, with which they dried their wet clothes, and warmed themselves. The air was now cool almost to ciiilliness, and for some days the weather re- mained imsettled, and the sky overcast with clouds, while the lake presented a leaden hue, crested with white mimic waves. They soon set to work to make another hut, and found close to the head of the ravine a great pine uprooted, aifording them large pieces of bark, which proved very serviceable in thatching the sides of the hut. The boys em- ployed themselves in this work, while Catharine cooked the fish they had caught the night before, with a share of which old Wolfe seemed to be mightily well pleased. After they had breakfasted, they all went up towards the hi^h table-land above the ravine, with Wolfe, to look round ' in hope of getting sight of their friends from Cold Springs, but though they kept an anxious look out in every direction, they re- roken masses ; iful state, the r little hut, and h rain. How- vitli some bark icre were a few inguislied, and ) a blaze, with DS, and warmed cool almost to he weather re- T overcast with d a leaden hue, ke another hut, 3f the ravine a lem large pieces serviceable in The boys em- while Catharine Light the night d Wolfe seemed After they had owards the high h Wolfe, to look of their friends ;h they kept an •ection, they re- TIIE CANADIAN f'UUSOES. 107 turned, towards evening, tired and hopeless. Hector had killed a red squirrel, and a par- tridge wliieh Wolfe " treed," — that is, stood barking at tlie foot of the tree in which it had perched, — and tlie supply of meat was a season- able change. They also noticed, and marked with the axe, several trees where there were bees, intending to come in the cold weather, and cut them down. Louis's father was a great and successful bee-liunter; and Louis ratlier prided himself on having learned something of liis father's skill in that line. Here, where flowers v/erc so abimdant and water plentiful, the wild bees seemed to be abundant also ; besides, the open space between the trees, ad- mitting the warm sunbeam. freely, was favour- able both for the bees and the flowers on which tliey fed, and Louis talked joyfully of the fine stores of honey they should collect in the fall. He had taught little Fanchon, a small French spaniel of his father's, to find out the trees where the bees hived, and also the nests of the ground-bees, and she would bark at the foot of the tree, or scratch with her feet on the ground, as the other dogs barked at the squirrels Or the woodchucks; but Fanchon was far away, and Wolfe was old, and would learn no new ti')cks, so Louis knew he had nothing but his 108 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I II ir.- -h I • own oLscvvation and the axe to depend upon for ])rocuring honey. The boys liad been unsuccessful for some days past in tislilng; neither perch nor sunfish, pink roach nor mud-pouts* were to be caught. However, they found water-mussels by groping in the sand, and cray-fish among the gravel at the edge of the water only ; the last pinched their fingers very spitefully. Tlie mussels were not very pahiteable, for want of salt; but hungry folks must not be dainty, and Louis declared them very good when well roasted, covered up with hot embers. " Tlie fish-hawks," said he, " set us a good example, for they eat them, and so do tlie eagles and herons. I watched one the other day with a mussel in his bill ; he flew to a high tree, let his prey fall, and immediately darted down to secure it; but I drove him off, and, to my great amusement, perceived the wise fellow had just let it fall on a stone, which had cracked the shell for him just in the right place. I often see shells lying at the foot of trees, far up the hills, w^liere these birds must have left them. There is one large thick-shelled mussel, that I have found several times with a round hole drilled through the shell, just as if it had *'A11 these fish are indigenous to the fresh waters of Canada. IS. THE f'AXADTAN rUUSOES. 109 depend upon slul for some I nor Himfish, to be caught. Is by groping the gravel at hist pinched mussels were t; but hungry jouis declared d, covered up rks," said he, eat them, and itched one the ; he flew to a . immediately drove him off, jived the wise ne, which had le right place. )t of trees, far lust have left lelled mussel, with a round it as if it had I fresh waters of been done with a small nngcr, doubtless the work of some bird witli a strong beak." "Do you remember," said Catliarine, " tlic fine ])ink mussel-shell that Ilec. picked up in the little corn-field last year; it had a hole in one of the shells too,* and when my uncle saw it, he said it must liave been dropped by some large bird, a fisli-hawk possibly, or a heron, and brought from the great lake, as it had been taken out of some deep water, the mussels in our creeks being rpiite thin-shelled and white." " Do you remember what a quantity of large fish bones we found in the eagle's nest on the top of our hill, Louis?" said Hector. " I do; those fish must have been larger than our perch and sun-fish ; they were brought from this very lake, I dare say." " If we had a good canoe now, or a boat, and a strong hook and line, we might become great fishermen." " Louis," said Catharine, " is always think- ing about canoes, and boats, and skiffs ; he ought to have been a sailor." Louis was confident that if they had a canoe * This ingenious mode of cracking the sheila of miiaselfl is common to many birds. The crow {Corvus corone) has been long known by American naturalists to break the thick shells of the river mussels, by letting them fall from a height on to rocks and stones. no THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. \ I !tr he could soon learn to manage her; he was an excellent sailor already in theory. Louis never saw difficulties ; he was always hopeful, and had a very good opinion of his own cleverness ; he was quicker in most things, his ideas flowed faster than Hector's, but Hector was more prudent, and possessed one valuable quality — steady perseverance ; he was slow in adopting an opinion, but when once convinced, he pushed on steadily till he mastered the subject or over- came the obstacle. " Catharine," said Louis, one day, " the huckleberries are now very plentiful, j,nd I think it would be a wise thing to gather a good store of them, and dry them for the winter. See, ma cbere, wherever we turn our eyes, or place our feet, they are to be found; the hill sides are purple with them. We may, for aught we know, be obliged to pass the rest of our lives here; it will be well to prepare for the winter when no berries are to be found." . "It will be well, mon ami, but we must not dry them in the sun; for let me tell you, Mr. Louis, that they will be quite tasteless — mere dry husks." " Why so, ma belle?" " I do not know the reason, but I only know the fact, for when our mothers dried the currants ES. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Ill tr; he was an Louis never pcful, and had cleverness; he ideas flowed »r was more ble quality — V in adopting :ed, he pushed ibject or over- e day, " the 111, ind I think r a good store ter. See, ma or place our lill sides are or aught we t of our lives or the winter we must not tell you, Mr. steless — mere I only know the currants and raspberries in the sun, such was the case, but when they dried them on the oven floor, or on the hearth, they were quite nice." " Well, Cath., I think I know of a flat thin stone that will make a good hearthstone, and we can get sheets of birch bark and sew into flat bags, to keep the dried fruit in." They now turned all their attention to drying huckleberries (or whortleberries).* Catharine k and Louis (who fancied nothing could be con- trived without his help) attended to the preparing and making of tlie bags of birch bark; but Hector was soon tired of girl's work, as he termed it, and, after gathering some berries, would wander away over the hills in search of game, and to explore the neighbouring hills and valleys, and sometimes it was sunset before he made his appearance. Hector had made an excellent strong bow, like the Indian bow, out of a tough piece of hickory wood, which he found in one of his rambles, and he made arrows with wood that he seasoned in the smoke, * From the abundance of this fruit, the Indians have given the name of Whortleberry Plain to the lands on the south shore. During the month of July and the early part of August, large parties come to the Rice Lake Plains to gather huckleben-ies, which they preserve by drying, for winter use. These berries make a delicious tart or pudding, mixed with bilberries and red-currants, requiring little sugar. 112 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Ir^' i i; '• ! i ! I sharpening the heads with great care with his knife, and hardening them by exposure to strong heat, at a certain distance from the fire. The entrails of the woodchucks, stretched, and scraped and dried, and rendered pliable l)y rubbing and drawing through the hands, answered for a bow- string; but afterwards, when they got the sinews and hide of the deer, they used them, properly dressed for I'.ic purpose. Hector also made a cross-bow, which he used with great effect, being a true and steady marksman. Louis and he would often amuse themselves with shooting at a mark, which they would chip on the bark of a tree ; even Catha- rine was a tolerable archeress with the long- bow, and the hut was now seldom without game of one kind or other. Hector seldom returned from his rambles without partridges, quails, or young pigeons, which are v>m ] jifulat this season of the year; many of the ol i ones that pass over in their migratory flight in the spring, stay to breed, or return thither for the acorns and berries that are to be found in great abundance. Squirrels, too, are very plentiful at this season. Hector and Louis remarked that the red and black squirrels never were to be found very near each other. It is a common belief, that the red squirrels make common cause with the grey, care with his ,sure to strong lie lire. The id, and scraped y ruhbing and ;red for a bow- they got the I J used them, which he used 3 and steady Ld often amuse trk, which they e ; even Catha- ^vith the long- i without game jldom returned ges, quails, or 1 at this season ,nes that pass fhe spring, stay ;he acorns and |eat abundance, at this season. tt the red and bund very near f, that the red ith the grey, THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 113 and beat the larger enemy off the gi'ound. The black squirrel, for a succession of years, was very rarely to be met with on the Plains, while there were plenty ri the red and grey in the " oak openings." * Deer, at the time our young Crusoes were living on the 11 ice Lake Plains, were plentiful, and, of course, so were those beasts that prey upon them, — vvolves, bears, and wolverines, besides the Canadian lynx, or cata- mount, as it is here commonly called, a species of wild-cat or panther. These wild animals are now no longer to be seen; it is a rare thing to hear of bears or wolves, and the wolverine and lynx are known only as matters of history in thi^ part of the country; these animals disappear as civilization advances, while some others increase and follow man, especially many spe- cies of birds, which seem to pick up the crumbs that fill from the rich man's board, and multiply about his dwelling; some adopt new habits and modes of building and feeding, according to the alteration and improvement in their circum- stances. "While our- young people seldom wanted for * Within the last three years, however, the black squirrels have been very numerous, and the red are less frequently to be seen. The flesh of the black squirrel is tender, white, and delicate, like that of a young rabbit. 1 114 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. l'^ !■ I , '! !i meat, they felt the privation of the bread to which they had been accustomed very sensibly. One day, while Hector and Louis were busily engaged with their assistant, Wolfe, in un- earthing a woodchuck, that had taken refuge in his burrow, on one of the gravelly hills above the lake, Catharine amused herself by looking- for flowers; she had filled her lap with ripe May-apples,* but finding them cumbersome in climbing the steep wooded hills, she deposited them at the foot of a tree near the boys, and pursued her search ; and it was not long before she perceived some pretty grassy-looking plants, with heads of bright lilac flowers, and on pluck- ing some pulled up the root also. The root was about the size and shape of a large crocus, -II. ' -r ! ♦ Podophyllum peltatmn — May-apple, or Mandrake. The fruit of the May-apple, in rich moist soil, will attain to the size of the magnum bonum, or egg-plum, which it resembles in colour and shape. It makes a delicious preserve, if seasoned with cloves or ginger ; when eaten uncooked, the outer rind, which is thick and fleshy, and has a rank taste, should be thrown aside ; the fine acid pulp in which the seeds are imbedded alone should be eaten. The root of the Podophyl- lum is used as a cathartic by the Indians. The root of this plant is reticulated, and when a large body of them are un- covered, they present a singular appeai-ance, interlacing each other in large meshes, like an extensive net-work; those roots are white, as thick as a man's little finger, and fragrant, and spread horizontally along the surface. The blossom is like a small white rose. i THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 115 le bread to iry sensibly, were busily olfe, in un- en refuge in r hills above i by looking tp witli ripe mbersome in slie deposited he boys, and )t long before ooking plants, and on pluck- 0. The root a large crocus, : Mandrake. The will attain to the vhich it resembles eserve, if seasoned ;d, the outer rind, c taste, should be ich the seeds are of the Podophyl- The root of this ly of them are un- |e, interlacing each net-work; these iger, and fragrant, The blossom is and, on biting it, she found it far from dis- agreeable, sweet, and slightly astringent; it seemed to be a favourite root with the wood- chucks, for she noticed tliat it grew about their burro Vv'S on dry gravelly soil, and many of the stems were bitten, and tlie roots eaten, a warrant in full of wholesomeness. Therefore, carrying home a parcel of the largest of the roots, she roasted them in the embers, and they proved almost as good as chestnuts, and more satisfying than the acorns of the white oak, which they had often roasted in tlie fire, when they were out working on the fallow, at the log heaps. Hector and Louis ate heartily of the roots, and commended Catharine for the discovery. Not many days afterwards, Louis accidentally found a much larger and more valuable root, near the lake shore. He saw a fine climbing shrub, with close bunches of dark reddish-purple pea-shaped flowers, which scented the air with a delicious perfume. The plant climbed to a great heiglit over the young trees, with a profusion of dark green leaves and tendrils. Pleased with the bowery appearance of the plant, he tried to pull one up, that he might show it to liis cousin, when the root displayed a number of large ,tubers, as big as good-sized potatoes, regular ioval-shaped ; the inside was quite white, tasting 116 THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. I 'li f^ somewhat like a potato, only pleasanter, when in its raw state, than an uncooked potato. Louis gathered his pockets full, and hastened home with liis prize, and, on being roasted, these new roots were decided to be little inferior to potatoes ; at all events, they Averc a valuable addition to their slender stores, and they procured as many as they could find, carefully storing them in a hole, whicli they dug for that purpose in a corner of their hut.* Hector suggested that these roots would be far better late in the fall, or early in the spring, tlian during the time that the plant was in bloom, for he knew from observation and experience that at the flowering- season the greater part of the nourishment derived from the soil goes to perfect the flower and the seeds. Upon scraping the cut tuber, there was a white floury powder produced, resembling the starchy substance of the po- tato. " This flour," said Catharine, " would make good porridge with milk." " Excellent, no doubt, my wise little cook and housekeeper," said Louis, laughing, " but, ■* This plant appears to me to be a species of the Psoralea eacuhnta, or Indian bread-root, which it resembles in de- scription, excepting that the root of the above is tuberous, oval, and connected by long filaments. The largest tubers are furthest from the stem of the plant. 5. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 117 ,santer, wlien otato. Louis stened home Lid, these new )r to potatoes ; e addition to ured as many ng them in a pm-pose in a luggested that ite in the fall, iring the time he knew from xt the flowering ^e nourishment Irfect the flower the cut tuher, Kler produced, ce of the po- " would make nse little cook jlaughing, '' hut, Lies of the Psomka \ it resembles in de- above is tuberouB, The largest tvibers ma helle cousine, where is the milk, and where is the porridge-pot to come fromV " " Indeed," said Catharine, " I fear, Louis, we must wait long for hoth." One fine day, Louis returned home from tiie lake sliore in great haste, for the hows and arrows, with the interesting news that a herd of five deer were in the water, and making for Long Island. '' But, Louis, they will he gone out of sight and heyond the reach of the arrows," said Catharine, as she handed him down the hows and a sheaf of arrows, which she quickly slung round his shoulders hy the helt of skin, which the young hunter had made for himself. " No fear, ma chbre ; they will stop to feed on the heds of rice and lilies. We must have Wolfe. Here, Wolfe, Wolfe, Wolfe,— here, hoy, here ! " ^ Catharine caught a portion of the excitement that danced in the hright eyes of her cousin, and declaring that she too would go and witness the hunt, rah down the ravine hy his side, while Wolfe, who evidently understood that they had some sport in view, trotted along hy his mis- tress, wagging his gi-eat hushy tail, and looking in high good humour. Hector was impatiently waiting the arrival of 118 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I, , '. y^ ii ii-^ % I;;; .'■■f (!^ r : the bows and Wolfe. The herd of deer, con- sisting of a nohle buck, two full-grown females, and two young half-grown males, were quietly feeding among the beds of rice and rushes, not more than fifteen or twenty yards from the shore, apparently quite unconcerned at the pre- sence of Hector, who stood on a fallen truuK eagerly eyeing their motions; but the hurried steps of Louis and Catharine, with the deep sonorous baying of Wolfe, soon roused the timid creatures to a sense of danger, and the stag, raising his head and making, as the children thought, a signal for retreat, now struck boldly out for the nearest point of Long Island. " We shall lose them," cried Louis, despair- ingly, eyeing the long bright track that cut the silvery waters, as the deer swam gallantly out. " Hist, hist, Louis," said Hector, " all depends upon Wolfe. Turn them, Wolfe; hey, hey, seek them, boy ! " Wolfe dashed bravely into the lake. " Head them! head them ! " shouted Hector. Wolfe knew what was meant ; with the sagacity of a long-trained hunter, he made a desperate effort to gain the advantage by a cir- cuitous route. Twice the stag turned irresolute, as if to face his foe, and Wolfe, taking the time, i : :M,! i. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 119 )f deer, con- own females, were quietly lI rushes, not •ds from tlie 1 at the pre- fallen trunK t the hurried ith the deep ised the timid md the stag, , the children struck holdly Island. jouis, despair- track that deer swam " all depends hey, hey. e; ake. outed Hector, lit; with the he made a tage by a cir- ;d irresolute, as ing the time, swam ahead, and then the race began. As soon as tlie boys saw tlie lierd had turned, and that Wolfe was between them and tlie island, they separated, Louis making good his ambush to the right among the cedars, and Hector at the spring to the west, while Catharine was stationed at the solitary pine-tree, at the point which com- manded the entrance of the ravine. " Now, Cathy," said her brother, " when you see the herd making for the ravine, shout and clap your hands, and they will turn either to the right or to the left. Do not let them land, or we shall lose them. We must tri. arrow missed, or only slightly wounded one of the deer. Hector, crouched heneath the trees, waited cautiously till one of the does was within reach of his arrow, and so good and true was his aim, that it hit the animal in the throat a little above the chest; the stag now turned again, but Wolfe was behind, and pressed him forward, and again the noble animal strained every nerve for the shore. Louis now sliot his arrow, but it swerved from the mark; he was too eager, it glanced harmlessly along the water; but the cool, unim- passioned hand of Hector sent another arrow between the eyes of the doe, stunning her with its force, and then, another from Louis laid her on her side, dying, and staining the water with her blood. The herd, abandoning their dying companion, dashed frantically to the shore, and the young hunters, elated by their success, suffered them to make good their landing without further molestation. Wolfe, at a signal from his master, ran in the quarry, anr" Louis declared exultingly, that as his last arrow havl given the covj) de grace, he was entitled to the honour of cutting the throat of the doe ; but this the stern Highlander protested against, and Louis, with a careless laugh, yielded the point, contenting himself with i^a. )unclcd one of trees, Wiiltecl within reach J was his aim, a little above in, but Wolfe ird, and again nerve for the nit it swerved 3r, it glanced le cool, unim- inother arrow stunning her r from Louis staining the ig companion, nd the young suffered them thout further m his master, ed exultingly, conj) de grace, f cutting the n Highlander th a careless J himself with \W>LJ< UNDINd ijUj; WdllNIiKH DM],', •h \ t- ■:';il i-: i '1 J< ii J i i THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 121 saying, *' Ah, well, I will get the first steak of the venison when it is roasted, and that is fui more to my taste." INIoreover, he private^ recounted to Catharine the important share he liad had in tlie exploit, giving her, at the same time, full eredit for the worthy service she liad ])erformed, in withstanding the landing of the herd. Wolfe, too, came in for a large share of the honour and glory of the chase. The hoy^ were soon hard at work, skinning the animal, and cutting it up. This was the most valuable acrpiisition they had yet effected, for many uses were to be made of the deer, besides eating the flesh. It was a store of wealth in their eyes. During the many years that their fathers had sojourned in the country, there had been occa- sional intercourse with the fiu* traders and trappers, and, sometimes, with friendly disposed Indians, who had called at the lodges of their white brothers for food and tobacco. From all these men, rude as they were, some practical knowledge had been acquired, and their visits, though few and far between, had left good fruit behind them ; somethi'^g to think about and talk about, and turn to future advantage. The boys had learned from the Indians Low •»ltH1 t 122 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. li ■'""^-i, I ', II! § precious were the tougli sinews of the deer for sewing. They knew how to prepare the skins of the (leer for mocassins, which they could cut out and make as neatly as the squaws them- selves. They could fashion arrow-heads, and knew how best to season the wood for making both the long and cross-bow ; they had seen the fish-hooks these people manufactured from bone and hard wood ; they knew that strips of fresh- cut skins would make bow-strings, or the entrails of animals dried and rendered pliable. They had watched the squaws making baskets of the inner bark of the oak, elm, and basswood, and mats of the inner bark of the cedar, with, many other ingenious works that they now found would prove useful to them, after a little practice had perfected their inexperienced attempts. They also knew how to dry venison as the Indians and trappers prepare it, by cutting the thick fleshy portions of the meat into strips, from four to six inches in breadth, and two or more in thickness. These strips they strung upon poles supported on forked sticks, and exposed them to the drying action of the sun and wind. Fish they split open, and removed the back and head bones, and smoked them slightly, or dried them in the sun. Their success in killing the doe greatly raised ►ES. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 123 )f the deer for pare the skins they could cut squaws them- ow-heads, and od for making y had seen the ired from bone strips of fresh- , or the entrails pliable. They baskets of the bass wood, and lar, with many >y now found I little practice ced attempts, enison as the )y cutting the at into strips, th, and two or they strung sticks, and ion of the sun and removed smoked them greatly raised their spirits ; in their joy they embraced each other, and bestowed the most affectionate ca- resses on Wolfe for his good conduct. '' But for this dear, wise old fellow, we should have had no venison for dinner to-day," said Louis ; " and so, "Wolfe, you shall have a choice piece for your own share." Every part of the deer seemed valuable in the eyes of the young hunters ; the skin they carefully stretched out upon sticks to dry gra- dually, and the entrails they also preserved for bow-strings. The sinews of the legs and back, they drew out, and laid carefully aside for future use. ^* We shall be glad enough of these strings by-and-by," said careful Hector ; *' for the summer will soon be at an end, and then we must turn our attention to making ourselves winter clothes and mocassins." "Yes, Hec, and a good warm shanty ; these huts of bark and boughs will not do wlien once the cold weather sets in." "A shanty would soon be put up," said Hector; "for even Kate, wee bit lassie as she is, could give us some help in trimming up the logs." "That I could, indeed," replied Catherine; " for you may remember, Hec, that the last ni mmm ■I 124 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 1, ! H -)i li journey my father made to the Bay,* with the pack of furs, that you and I called a Bee'f to put up a shed for the new cow that he was to drive back with him, and I am sure Mathilde and I did as much good as you and Louis. You know you said you could not have got on nearly so well without our help." "Yes, and you cried because you got a fall off the shed when it was only four logs high." " It was not for the fall that I cried," said Catharine, resentfully, " but because cousin Louis and you laughed at me, and said, ' Cats, you know, have nine lives, and seldom are hurt, because they light on their feet,' and I thought it was very cruel to laugh at me when I was in pain. Beside, you called me * puss,' and ' poor pussie' all the rest of the Bee J' " I am sure, ma belle, I am very sorry if I was rude to you," said Louis, trying to look penitent for the offence. " For my part, I had * Bay of Quintg. + A Bee is a practical instance of duty to a neighbour. We fear it is peculiar to Canada, although deserving of imitation in all Christian colonies. When any work which requires many hands is in the course of perfoi*mance, as the building of log-houses, barns, or shanties, all the neighboui's are sum- moned, and give their best assistance in the construction. Of course the assisted party is liable to be called upon by the community in turn, to repay in kind the help he has received. 3ES. THE CANADIAN CRU80ES. 25 Bay,* witlrtlie I a Bee'l to put le was to drive Mathikle and I is. You know 3t on nearly so you got a fall ir logs high." I cried," said )ecause cousin nd said, ' Cats, ildom are hurt, and I thought when I was in ass,' and ' poor very sorry if I trying to look my part, I had forgotten all about the fall ; I only know that we passed a very merry day. Dear aunt made us a fine Johnny-cake for tea, with lots of maple molasses ; and the shed was a capital shed, and the cow must have thought us fine builders, to have made such a comfortable shelter for her, with no better help." "After all," said Hector, thoughtfully; "chil- dren can do a great many things if they only resolutely set to work, and use the wits and the strength that God has given them to work with. i A few weeks ago, and we should have thought } it utterly impossible to liave supported ourselves in a lonely wilderness like this by our own exertions in fishing and hunting." "If we had been lost in the forest, we must have died with hunger," said Catharine;" but let us be thankful to the good God who led us hither, and gave us health and strength to help - ourselves." a neighbour. We rving of imitation rk which requires ce, as the building lighbours are sum- the construction, called upon by the the help he has 126 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ' I I ii- -I I I % ] |( !*■■ 'I'' CHAPTER IV. " Aye from the sultiy heat, We to our cave retreat, O'ercanopied by huge roots, intertwined, Of wildest texture, blacken'd o'er with age, Round them their mantle green the climbers twine. Beneath whose mantle — pale, Fann'd by the breathing gale. We shield us from the fervid mid-day rage. Thither, while the murmuring throng Of wild bees hum their drowsy song." — Coleridge. " Louis, what are you cutting out of that bit of wood?" said Catharine, the very next day after the first ideas of the shanty had been started. " Hollowing out a canoe." "Out of that piece of stick?" said Catharine, laughing. " How many passengers is it to accommodate, my dear." " Don't teaze, ma belle. I am only making a model. My canoe will be made out of a big pine log, and large enough to hold three." "Is it to be like the big sap-trough in the sugar-bush at home?" Louis nodded assent. " I long to go over to the island ; I see lots of ducks popping in and out of the little bays beneath the cedars, and there are plenty of par- EB. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 127 id, I age, imbers twine. rage, — Coleridge. lit of that bit of next day after leen started. aid Catharine, o:er3 is it to only making out of a big . three." ■trough in the :lded assent, nd ; I see lots he little bays plenty of par- •f ' tridges, I am sure, and squirrels, — it is the very 1 place for them." " And shall we have a sail as well as oars?" " Yes ; set up your apron for a sail." Catharine cast a rueful look upon the tattered remnant of the apron. " It is worth nothing now," she said, sighing ; '' and what am I to do when my gown is worn out ? It is a good thing it is so strong ; if it had been cotton, now, it would have been torn to bits among the bushes." " We must make clothes of skins as soon as Uve get enough," said Hector; "Louis, I tliink .you can manufacture a bone needle ; we can [pierce the holes with the strong thorns, or a little round bone bodkin, that can be easily made." " The first rainy day, we will see what wc can do," replied ^jouis; "but I am full of my canoe just now." " Indeed, Louis, I believe you never tliink of anything else ; but even if we had a canoe to-morrow, I do not think that either you or I could manage one," said cautious Hector. "I could soon learn, as others have done before me. I wonder who first taught the Indians to make canoes, and venture out on the lakes and streams. Why should we be more llstupid than these untaught heathens ? I have mmmr 128 TEE CANADIAN CRUSOES. il; !■ MJ ; ; I •' 1: ; • ■ ■ ^ i 1:'i listened so often to my father's stories and ad- ventures when he was out himhering on the St. John''s river, that i am as familiar with the idea of a boat, as if I had been born in one. Only think now, ma belle," he said, turning to Catha- rine; "ju"^ think of the fish — the big ones we could get if we had but a canoe to push out from the shore beyond those rush-beds." " It strikes me, Louis, that those rush-beds, as vou call them, must be the Indian rice that we liave seen the squaws make their soup of." " Yes ; and you remember old Jacob used to talk of a fine lake that he called Rice Lake, somewhere to tlie northward of the Cold Springs, where he said there was plenty of game of all kindsj and a fine open place, where people could see through the openings among the trees. He said it was a great hunting-place for the Indians in the fall of the year, and that they came there to gather in the harvest of wild rice." " I hope the Indians will not come here and find us out," said Catharine, shuddering; ''I think I should be more frightened at the Indians than at the wolves. Have we not heard fearful tales of their cruelty?" " But we have never been harmed by them ; they have always been civil enough when they came to the Springs." OES. stories and ad- ring on the St. ir with the idea in one. Only raing to Catha- he big ones we ) push out from THE CANADIAN CHLSOES. 129 « 5. se rush-heds, as an rice that we • soup of." 1 Jacob used to led Rice Lake, le Cold Springs, of game of all ire people could the trees. He for the Indians ;hey came there nee. come here and huddering ; "I d at the Indians ot heard fearful rmed by them ; ugh when they " They came, you know, for food, or shelter, or something that they wanted from us ; but it may be different when they find us alone and unpro- tected, encroaching upon their hunting grounds." "The place is wide enough fur ns and them ; we will try and make them our friends." " The wolf and tlie lamb do not lie down in the fold together," observed Hector. a ^r n le Indian is treacherous. The wild man and thvi civilized man do not live well together, their habits and dispositions are so contrary the one to the other, ^^''e are open, and they are cunning, and they suspect our openness to be only a greater '.'.egree of cumiing than their own — they do not understand us. They are taught to be revengeful, and ve are taught to forgive our enemies. So you see that what is a virtue with the savage, is a crime with the Christian. If the Indian could be taught the word of God, he might be kind and true, and gentle as well as brave." It was with conversations like this that our poor wanderers wiled away their weariness. The love of life, and the exertions necessary for self-preservation, occupied so large a i)ortion (jf their thoughts and time, hat they had hardly leisure for repining. They mutually cheered and ' animated each other to bear up against the sad ifiite that had thus severed them from every kin- TT !ih..i li , ■!i!l' Jil 180 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. (Ircd tie, and sliut tlieiii out from tliat home to which tlieir young hearts were bound by every endearing remembrance from infancy upwards. One bright Se]:>tembcr morning, our young people set oft' on an exploring expedition, leaving the faithful Wolfe to watch the wigwam, for they well knew he was too honest to touch their store of dried fish and venison himself, and too trusty and fierce to suffer wolf or wild cat near it. They crossed several narrow deep ravines, and the low wooded flat * along the lake sliorc, to the eastward of Pine-tree Point. Finding it difficult to force their way through the thick luiderwood that always impedes the progress of the traveller on the low shores of the lake, they followed the course of an as(iending narrow ridge, which formed a sort of natural causeway between two parallel hollows, the top of this ridge being, in many places, not wider than a cart or waggon could pass along. The sides were most grace- fully adorned wdth flowering shrubs, wild vines, creepers of various species, wild cherries of several kinds, hawthorns, bilberry bushes, high-busli * Now the fertile farm of Joe Harris, a Yankee settler, whose pleasant meadows and fields of grain form a pretty feature from the lake. It is one of the oldest clearings on the shore, and speaks well for the persevering indiistiy of the settler and his family. m I ;8. Jiat home to md by every ;y upwards. ;, our young lition, leaving wigwam, lor to touch their nself, and too or wihl cat deep ravines, the hike shore, t. Finding it ,ugh the thick the progress of the lake, they g narrow ridge, Lseway between is ridge being, I cart or waggon Lrc most grace- libs, wild vines, lerries of several [hcs, high-bush a Yankee settler, tain form a pretty [oldest clearings on bvering indnstry ot THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 131 eranbeiTies, silver birch, poplars, oaks an pines ; while in the deep ravines on either side grew trees of the largest growth, the heads of wliich lay on a level with their path. Wild cliffy banks, beset with huge boulders of red and gTey gra- nite and water-worn limestone, showed that it had once formed the boundary of the lake, though now it was almost a quarter of a mile in its rear. Springs of pure water were in abun- dance, trickling down the steep rugged sides of this wooded glen. The children wandered on- wards, delighted witli the wild picturesque path they had chosen, sometimes resting on a huge block of moss-covered stone, or on the twisted roots of some ancient grey old oak or pine, while they gazed with curiosity and interest on tlie lonely but lovely landscape before them. Across the lake, the dark forest shut all else from tlieir view, rising in gradual far-off slopes, till it reached the utmost boundary of siglit. Mucii the children marvelled what countr}' it might be that lay in t' 'i dim, blue, hazy distance, — to them, indeed, a tenxi incognita — a land of mys- tery; but neither of her companions laughed when Catharine gravely suggested tlie proba- bility of this unknown shore to the northward ■teing her father's beloved Highlands. Let not the youthful and more learned reader smile at J ::;J {1 ^ ' 1 ,| , , 1 < I i.' i ■ 1 i ' ■ 1 1 ;' 1 . } ■ 1 ;[' I ' '' ! 4 l :; ':'■ / ■ ■ ■ ■ f 1 ! ' 1 Tin: CANADIAN CRUSOES. the ignorance of tlie Canadian girl ; she knew nothing of nnips, and globes, and lieniispheres, — her only book of stndy liad been the Holy Scriptures, her only teacher a poor Highland soldier. Following the elevated ground above this deep valley, the travellers at last lialted on the extreme edge of a high and precipitous mound, that formed an abrupt tennination to the deep glen. They found water not far from this spot fit for drinking, by following a deer-path a little to the southward. And there, on the borders of a little basin on a pleasant brae, where the brigiit silver birch waved gracefully over its sides, they decided upon building a w^inter house. They named the spot Mount Ararat : " For here, ' s;iid they, " we will build us an ark of refuge, and wander no more." And Mount Ararat i.^ the name wducli the spot still bears. Here they sat them down on a fallen tree, and ate a mea of dried venison, and drank of the cold spriiii' that welled out from beneath the edge of tlu bank. Hector felled a tree to mark the site their house near the birches, and they matlt a regular blaze on the trees as they returnet home towards the wigwam, that they might no; miss the place. They found less difficulty h retracing their path than they had formerly, a- THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 133 ;OES. o-irl; she knew id licmlsplieres, bocii the Holy poor lllgliUnul and al)Ove this St halted on the Dcipitoiis mound, ition to the deep 111' IVoni this spot deer-path a littk on the horders of , where the bright vcY its sides, they er liouse. They at: "For here,' an ark of refuge, ;Mount Ararat i.^ jcars. Here they le, and ate a meal if the cold spriiiL.' the edge of tin mark the site oi and they mad as they returnet at they might iioi less difficulty ir D' had formerly, a^ tlicrc were some striking peculiarities to mark it, and tliey liad learned to he very minute in tlie remarks tliey made as they travelled, so that they now seldom missed the way they came by. A few days after tliis, they removed all their liousehold stores, viz. the axe, the tin pot, bows and arrows, baskets, and bags of dried fruit, the dried venison and fish, and the deer- skin ; nor did tliey forget the deer scalp, which they bore away as a trophy, to be fastened up over the door of their new dwelling, for a me- morial of their first hunt on the shores of the Rice Lake. The skin w^as given to Catharine to sleep on. ^ The boys were now busy from morning till night chopping downi trees for house-logs. It was a work of time and labour, as the axe was blunt, and the oaks hard to cut; but they laboured on without grumbling, and Kate watched the fall of each tree with lively joy. They w^ere no longer dull ; there was something to look forw^ard to from day to day — they were going to commence housekeeping in good earnest and they should be warm and well lodged before the bitter frosts of w^inter could come to chill their blood. It was a joyful day when the log walls of the little shanty were put up, and the door hewed out. Windows they had none, so they did i;j4 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I '■*!:. i I ■ m 1 ,! Hi' ! ■V if. not cut out tlie spaces for them ; * tlicy could do very well without, as liundreds of Irish and Highland emi^-ants have done before and since. A pile of stones rudely cemented together with wet clay and ashes against the logs, and a hole cut in the roof, formed the chimney and hearth in this primitive dwelling. The chinks were filled with wedge-shaped pieces of wood, and plastered with clay: the trees, being chiefly oaks and pines, afforded no moss. This defi- ciency rather surprised the boys, for in the thick forest and close cedar swamps, moss gi'ows in abundance on the north side of the trees, espe- cially on the cedar, maple, beech, bass, and iron wood ; but there were few of these, excepting a chance one or two in the little basin in front of the house. The roof was next put on, which consisted of split cedars ; and when the little dwelling was thus far habitable, they were all very happy. While the boys had been putting on the roof, Catharine had collected the stones for the chimney, and cleared the earthen floor of the chips and rubbish with a broom of cedar boughs, bound together with a leathern thong. She had swept it all clean, carefully removing * Many a shanty is put up in Canada without windows, and only an open space for a door, with a rude plank set up to close it in at night. ES. TIIK CANADIAN CIJUSOES. i.'jr, ;* they could 1 of Irish and lYQ and since, nted together he logs, and a chimney and The chinks ieccs of wood, , being chiefly s. This deii- or in the thick BOSS grows in he trees, espe- hass, and iron ese, excepting basin in front put on, which hen the little they were all been putting ;ted the stones earthen floor )room of cedar athern thong. fully removing hout windows, and ie plank set up to all unsightly objects, and strewing it over witii frcsli cedar s])rigs, wliich gave out a pleasant odour, and formed a smooth and not unseemly carpet for their little dwelling. How cheerful was the first fire blazing up on their own hearth! It was 80 pleasant to sit by its ghuhlcning light, and chat away of all they had done and all that they mean< to do. Here was to be a set of split cedar shelves, to hold their provisions and baskets ; there a set of stout pegs were to be inserted between the logs for hanging up strings of dried meat, bags of birch-bark, or the skins of the animals they were to shoot or trap. A table was to be fixed on posts in the centre of the floor. Louis was to carve wooden platters and dishes, and some stools were to be made with hewn blocks of wood, till something better could be devised. Their bedsteads were rough poles of iron-wood, supported by posts driven into the ground, and partly upheld by the projection of the logs at the angles of the wall. Nothing could be more simple. The framework was of split cedar; and a safe bed was made by pine boughs being first laid upon the frame, and then thickly covered with dried grass, moss, and withered leaves. Such were the lowly but healthy couches on which these children of the forest slept. A dwelling so rudely framed and scantily n^ THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ii 1.1 I ^ lii.l'l M 1, furnlslied would be regarded witli disdain by the poorest Englisli peasant. Yet many a settler's family jiave I seen as roughly lodged, while a better house was being prepared for their reception ; and many a gentleman's son has voluntarily submitted to privations as great as these, from the love of novelty and adventure, or to embark in the tempting expectation of realizing money in the lumbering trade, working liard, and sharing the rude log shanty and ruder society of those reckless and hardy men, the Canadian lumberers. During the spring and summer months, these men spread themselves through the trackless forests, and along the shores of nameless lakes and unknown streams, to cut the pine or oak lumber, such being the name they give to the felled stems of trees, which are then hewn, and in the winter dragged out upon the ice, where they are formed into rafts, and floated down the waters till they reach the great St. Lawrence, and are, after innumerable difficulties and casualties, finally shipped for England. I have likewise known European gentlemen voluntarily leave the com- forts of a civilized home, and associate them- selves with the Indian trappers and hunters, leading lives as wandering and as wild as the uncultivated children of the forest. Ii , I ►ES. th disdain by Yet many a )uglily lodged, prepared for ntleman's son ations as great iind adventure, expectation of trade, working mty and ruder ardy men, tlie le spring and ;ad tl\emselves ind along the :nown streams, uch being tlie items of trees, A^inter dragged re formed into iters till they and are, after ualties, finally kewise known leave the com- ssociate them- and hunters, as wild as the THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 137 Tlie nights and early mornings were already growing sen.sil)ly more chilly. The dews at this season fall lieavily, and the mists fill the valleys, till the sun has risen with sufficient heat to draw iij) the vapours. It was a good thing that the shanty was finished so soon, or the exposure to the damp air might have been pro- ductive of ague and fever. Every hour almost they spent in making little additions to their liouschold comforts, l)ut some time was neces- sarily passed in trying to obtain provisions. One day Hector, who had been out from dawn till moonrise, returned with tlie welcome news that he had shot a young deer, and required the assistance of his cousin to bring it up the steep bank — (it was just at the entrance of the great ravine) — below the precipitous cliff" near the lake ; he had left old Wolfe to guard it in the meantime. They had now plenty of fresh broiled meat, and this store was very acceptable, as they were obliged to be very careful of the dried meat that they had. This tirrwi Catliarine adopted a new plan. Instead of cutting the meat in strips, and drying it, (or jerkinj? it, as the lumberers term it,) she roasted it betbre the fire, and hung it up, wrap- ping it in thin slieets of bircli bark. The juices, instead of being dried up, were preserved, and ■■PiPMiai 138 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. the meat was more palatable. Catliarine found great store of wild plums in a beautiful valley, not far from the shanty; these she dried for the winter store, eating sparingly of them in their fresh state; she also found plenty of wild black currants, and high-bush cranberries, on *U» banks of a charming creek of bright Avater that flowed between a range of high pine hills, and finally emptied itself into the lake.* There wen- great quantities of water-cresses in this pretty brook ; they grew in bright round cushion-like tufts at the bottom of the water, and were tender and wholesome. These formed an agreeable addition to their diet, which had hitherto been chiefly confined to animal food, for they could not always meet with a supply of the bread- roots, as they grew chiefly in damp, swampy thickets on the lake shore, which were sometimes very difficult of access; however, they never missed any opportunity of increasing their stores, and laying up for the winter such roots as they could procure. As the cool weather and frosty nights drew on, the want of warm clothes and bed-covering * This little stream flows through the green meadows of " Glenlyndeu," watering the grounds* of Mr. Alfred Hayward. whose picturesque cottage forms a most attractive object to the eye of the traveller. I l! )ES. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 139 )atliariiie found leautiful valley, le dried for the ' tliem in tlieiv r of wild black jerries, on *^ •ight water that pine hills, and e.* There were i in this pretty Lnd cusliion-like ater, and wer(^ lied an agreeable i hitherto been for they could f of the bread- damp, swampy were sometimes ^er, they never iicreasing their inter such roots ty nights drew id bed-covering 3 green meadows of Ir. Alfred Hay ward, attractive object t- became more sensibly felt : those they had were beginning to wear out. Catharine had managed to wash her clotlies at the lake several times, and thus preserved them clean and wliolcsome ; but she was often sorely puzzled how the want of her dress was to be supplied as time wore on, and many were the consultations she held with tlie boys on the important subject. With the aid of a needle she might be able to manufacture the skins of the small animals into some sort of iacket, and the doe-skin and deer-skin could be made into garments for the boys. Louis was always suppling and rubbing the skins to make tliem soft. They had taken off the hair by sprinkling it with wood ashes, and rolling it up with the hairy side inwards. Out of one of these skins he made excellent mocassins, piercing the lioles with a sharpened bone bodkin, and passing ti. • sinews of the deer through, as he had seen his father do, by fixing a stout iish-bonc to the deer- sinew thread; thus he had an excellent substitute for a needle, and with the aid of the old file he sharpened the point of the rusty nail, so that he was enabled, "vrith a little trouble, to drill a hole in a \)c*\w needle, for his cousin Catharine's use. After sexcra! attempts, he succeeded in making Bome of tolerable fineness, hardening them by exposure to a slow steady degree of heat, till *iW» 140 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ! I "«(i she was able to work with them, and even mend her clothes with tolerable expertness. By de- grees, Catharine contrived to cover the w^hole outer surface of her homespun woollen frock with squirrel and mink, musk-rat and wood- cliuck skins. A curious piece of fur patchwork of many hues and textures it presented to the eye, — a coat of many colours, it is true ; but it kept the wearer warm, and Catharine w^as not a little proud of her ingenuity and industry : every new patch that was added was a source of fresh satisfaction, and the mocassins, that Louis fitted so nicely to her feet, vrere great comforts. A fine skin that Hector brought triumphantly in one day, the spoil from a fox that had been caught in one of his deadfalls, was in due time converted into a dashing cap, the brush remaining as an ornament to hang downi on one shoulder. Catharine might liave passed for a small Diana, when she went out with her fur dress and bow and arrows to hunt with Hector and Louis. Whenever game of any kind was killed, it was carefully skinned and stretched upon bent sticks, being first turned, so as to present the inner part to the drying action of the air. The young hunters were most expert in this work, having been accustomed for many years to assist their fathers in preparing the furs which they lES. md even mend Dness. By de- >ver tlie whole woollen frock rat and wood- fur patchwork •esented to the is true ; but it irine was not a industry: every source of fresh lat Louis fitted mforts. A fine phantly in one I been caught in time converted remaining as one shoulder. a small Diana, dress and bow and Louis, was killed, it lied upon bent to present the If the air. The 't in this work, Y years to assist ■urs which they THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 141 disposed of to the fur traders, who visited them from time to time, and gave them various articles in excliaiige for their peltries; sucli as powder and shot, and cutlery of different kinds, as knives, scissors, needles, and pins, witli gay cali- coes and cotton Iiandkerchiefs for the women. As the evenings lengtliened,thc boys employed themselves witli carvhig wooden platters : knives and forks and spoons they fashioned out of the larger bones of the deer, which they often found bleaching in the sun and wind, where they had been left by their enemies the wolves; baskets too they made, and birch dishes, which they could now finish so well, that they held water, or any liquid; but their great want Avas some vessel that would bear the heat of the fire. The tin pot was so small that it could be made little use of in the cooking way. Catharine liad- made an attempt at making tea, on a small scale, of the leaves of the sweet fern, — a graceful woody fern, with a fine aromatic scent like nutmegs; this plant is highly esteemed among the Canadians as a beverage, and also as a remedy against the ague ; it gi'ows in great abundance on dry sandy lands and wastes, by waysides. " If we could but make some sort of earthen pot that would stand the heat of the fire," said Louis, " we could get on nicely with cooking." !i. ! i " . J (I liVlT lih f I', '■ i(lll ' .■I ll'l ill I I ill 1 ! 142 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. But nothing like tlie sort of clay used by potters liad been seen, and they were obliged to give up that thought, and content themselves with roasting or broiling their food. Louis, however, who was fond of contrivances, made an oven, by hollowing out a place near the hearth, and lining it witli stones, filling up the intervals with wood ashes and such clay as they could find, beaten into a smootli mortar. Hucli cement answered very well, and the oven was heated by filling it with hot embers ; these were removed when it was sufficiently heated, and the meat or roots placed within, the oven being- covered over with a flat stone previously heated before the fire, and covered with live coals. This sort of oven had often been described by old Jacob, as one in common use among some of the Indian tribes in the lower province, in which they cook small animals, and make excellent meat of them; tliey could bake bread also in this oven, if they had liad flour to use.* Since the finishing of the liouse and furnish- ing it, the young people were more reconciled to their lonely life, and even entertained decided liome feelings for their little log cabin. Tliey * This primitive oven is much like what voyagers have described as iu use among the natives of many of the South Sea islands. ,1 ! ES. THE CANADIAN CRUSOKS. 14;^ clay used by ere obliged to nt themselves food. Louis, ivances, made (lace near the filling up the ill clay as they nortar. Sucli the oven was rs; these were Y heated, and :he oven being viously heated Lve coals. This cribed by old ng some of the nee, in whicli take excellent bread also in use.* and furnish- ore reconciled ained decided cabin. Tliey at voyagers have lauy of the South never ceased, it is true, to talk of their parents, and brotliers, and sisters, and wonder if all were well, and whetlier they still hoped for their return, and to reeal all their happy days spent in the lionie wliieh tliey now feared they were (k'stined never again to behold. About the same time tliey lost the anxious hope of meeting some one from home in search of them at every turn when they went out. Nevertheless they ^were becoming each day UK^re cheerful and more I active. Ardently attached to each other, they S seemed bound together by a yet more sacred tie of brotherhood. They were now all the ** w^orld to one another, and no cloud of disunion came to mar their happiness. Hector's habitual gravity and caution were tempered by Louis's lively vivacity and ardour of temper, and they both loved Catharine, and strove to smoothe, as much as possible, the hard life to which she was exposed, by the most afiectionate consideration for her comfort, and she in return endeavom-ed to repay them by cheerfully enduring all priva- i :tivas evident by his disordered air, and the humed glances that he cast over his shoulder from time to time, that something unusual had occurred to disturb liim. " Halloo! Louis, is it bear, wolf, or catamount that is on your trail?" cried Hector, almost amused by the speed with which his cousin hurried onward. " Why, Louis, whither away?" Louis now turned and held up his hand, as if to enjoin silence, till Hector came up to him. ** Why, man, what ails you? what makes you run as if you were hunted down by a pack of wolves?" " It is not w^olves, or bears either," said Louis, as soon as he could get breath to speak, " but the Indians are all on Bare-hill, holding a war council, I suppose, for there are several canoe-loads of them." " How came you to see them?" '< I must tell you that when I parted from you and Cathy, instead of going down to my raft, as I thought at first I would do, I followed the deer path through the little ravine, and then ascending the side of the valley, I crossed the bircli gTOve, and kept down the slope within sight of the creek. While I was looking out upon the lake, and thinking how pretty the TTmrt H!"i Ml 1 Pi 146 THE CANADIAN niUSOKS. islands were, rising so gi-ecn from tlic Line water, I was surprised by seeing several dark spots dotting the lake. At first, you may Le sure, 1 thought they must be a herd of deer, only they kept too far apart, so I sat down on a log to wateli, thinking if they turned out to be deer, 1 would raec off for you and Wolfe, and tlie bows and arrows, that wc might try our chance for some venison; but as the black specks came nearer and nearer, I perceived they were canoes with Indians in them, three in each. They made for the mouth of the creek, and ran ashore among the thick bushes. I watched them with a beating heart, and lay down Hat, lest they should spy me out ; for those fellows have eyes like catamounts, so keen and wild — they see everything without seeming to cast a glance on it. Well, I saw them wind up the ridge till they reached tlie Bare-hill.* You remember that spot; we called it so from its barren appear- ance. In a few minutes a column of smoke rose and curled among the pine-trees, and then another and another, till I comited five fires * Supposed to be a council hill. It is known by the name of Bare-hill, from the singular want of verdure on its surface. It is one of the steepest on the ridge above the little creek ; being a picturesque object, with its fine pine +vees, seen from Mr. Hayward's grounds, and forms, I believe, a part of his property. ii'i THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 147 ', l)l\ic water, t dark spots Y 1)0 sure, 1 jr, only tlicy on a log to to "be deer, 1 lud the bows ir cliance for spceks came r were canoes . They made 1 ran ashore ed them with iat, lest they )\vs have eyes ild— they see hi a glance on the ridge till 'on remember barren appear- of smoke rose ;cs, and then Lited five fires nown by the name lure on its surface, e the little creek : ue trees, seen from lelieve, a part ot n. burning briglitly; and, as I stood '^n the liigh ground, I could distinguish tlie figures of many naked savages moving about, running to and fro like a parcel of black ants on a cedar log; and by-and-by I heard them raise a yell like a pack of ravenous wolves on a deer track It made ray heart leap up in my breast. 1 forgot all the schemes that had just got into my wise head, of slipping quietly down, and taking off one of tlie empty birch canoes, which you must owti would have been a glorious thing for us; but when I heard the noise these wild WTctchcs raised, I darted ofi*, and ran as if the whole set w^ere at my heels. I think I just saved my scnlp." And Louis put his hand to his head, and tugged his thick bhick curls, as if to ascertain that they were still safe from the scalping knives of his Indian enemies. " And now, Hec, what is to be done ? We must hide ourselves from the Indians; they will kill us, or take us away with them if they find us." " Let us go home and talk over our plans with Cathy." " Yes; for I have heard my father say two heads are better than one, and so three of course must be still better than two." " Why," said Hector, laughing, " it depends 148 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Jl" : i.'t 1,1 ; Upon the stock of practical wisdom in the heads, for two fools, you know, Louis, will hardly form one rational plan." Various were the schemes devised for their security. Hector proposed pulling down the shanty, and dispersing the logs, so as to leave no trace of the little dwelling; but to this neither his cousin nor his sister would agree. To pull down the new house that had cost them so much labour, and which had proved such a comfort to them, they could not endure even in idea. " Let us put out the fire, and hide ourselves in the big ravine below Mount Ararat, dig a cave in one of the hills, and convey our house- hold goods thither." Such was Louis's plan. "The ravines would be searched directly," suggested Hector ; " besides, the Indians know they are famous coverts for deer and game of all sorts ; they rtiight chance to pop upon us, and catch us like woodchucks in a burrow." " Yes, and burn us," said Catharine, with a shudder. *' I know the path that leads direct to the ' Happy Valley,' (the name she had given to the low flat, now known as the ' lower Race- course,') and it is not far from here, only ten minutes' walk in a straight line. We can conceal ourselves below the steep bank that we descended the other day ; and there are several springs of THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 149 in the heads, hardly form scd for then- ig down the as to leave to this neither ree. To pull them so much h a comfort to in idea, hide ourselves Ararat, dig a vey our house- Louis's plan, •hed directly,'' Indians know ind game of all ■) upon us, and rrow." tharine, with a t leads direct to she had given lower Kace- here, only ten We can conceal lat we descended veral springs ot le fresh water, and plenty of nuts and berries ; and the trees, though few, arc so thickly covered with 1 1 close spreading branches that touch tlic very gi'ound, that we might hide ourselves from a hundred eyes were they ever so cunning and prying." ^ Catharine's counsel was deemed the most prudent, and the boys immediately busied them- selves with hiding under the broken branches of a prostrate tree such articles as they could not conveniently cany away, leaving the rest to chance; with the most valuable they loaded themselves, and guided by Catharine, who, with her dear old dog, marched forward along the narrow footpath that had been made by i some wild animals, probably deer, in their pas- ' sage from the lake to their feeding-place, or favourite covert, on the low sheltered plain; where, being quite open, and almost, in parts, ; free from trees, the grass and herbage were i sweeter and more abundant, and the springs of I water fresh and cool. I Catharine cast many a fearful glance through the brushwood as they moved onward, but saw no living thing, excepting a family of chitminks gaily chasing each other along a fallen branch, and a covey of quails, that were feeding quietly on the red berries of the Mitchella repens, or n r II) ' I 150 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 'i', -.i; I -I if twinbeny,* as it is commonly called, of which the partridges and quails are extremely fond; for Nature, with liberal hand, has spread abroad her bounties for the small denikiens, furred or feathered, that haunt the Rice Lake and its flowery shores. After a continued but gentle ascent through the oak opening, they halted at the foot of a majestic pine, and looked round them. It was a lovely spot as any they had seen ; from west to east, the lake, bending like a silver crescent, lay between the boundary hills of forest trees ; in front, the long lines of undulating wood- covered heights faded away into mist, and blended with the horizon. To the east, a deep and fertile valley lay between the high lands, on which they rested, and the far ridge of oak hills. From their vantage height, they could distinguish the outline of the Bare-hill, made more distinct by its flickering fixes and the smoke wreaths that hung like ?. pearly-tinted robe among the dark pines that grew upon its crest. Not long tarrying did our fugitives make, though perfectly safe from detection by the distance and their shaded position, for many * Also partridge-berry and checker-berry, a lovely creeping winter-green, with white fragrant flowers, and double scarlet berry. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. lol d, of which mely fond; read abroad s, furred or ike and its ent through lie foot of a em. It was . ; from west ver crescent, forest trees; lating wood- ) mist, and ! east, a deep high lands, ridge of oak , they could re-hill, made res and the pearly-tinted T'ew upon its »ur fugitives detection by ion, for many lovely creeping id double scarlet ^.f a winding vale and wood-crowned heiglit lay between them and the encampment. But fear is not subject to the control of reason, and in the present instance it invested the dreaded Indians with superhuman powers of sight and of motion. A few minutes' hasty flight brought our travellers to the brow of a precipi- tous bank, nearly a hundred feet above tlie level open phiin wliich they sought. Here, then, they felt comparatively safe : they were out of sight of the camp fires, the spot they had chosen was open, and flight, in case of the approach of the Indians, not difficult, while hiding-places were easy of access. They found a deep, slieltered hollow in the bank, where two mighty pines had been torn, up by the roots, and prostrated headlong down the steep, forming a regular cave, roofed by the eartli and fibres that had been uplifted in their fall. Pendent from these roots hung a luxuriant curtain of wild grape- vines and other creepers, which formed a leafy screen, through whicli the most curious eye could scarcely penetrate. Phis friendly vegetable veil seemed as if provided for their concealment, and they carefully abstained from distuibing the pendent foliage, lest they should, by so doing, betray their hiding-place ^o their enemies. They foimd plenty of long grass, and abundance "I fir 152 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I, m •''Mi 'mi: 'I'm of long soft green moss and ferns near a small grove of poplars, which surrounded a spring of fine water. They ate some dried fruit and smoked fish, and drank some of the clear spring; and after they had said their evening prayers, they laid down to sleep, Catharine's head pillowed on the neck of her faithful guardian, Wolfe. In the middle of the night a startling sound, as of some heavy body falling, wakened them all simultaneously. The night was so dark they could see nothing, and terror-struck, they sat gazing into the impenetrable darkness of their cave, not even daring to speak to each other, hardly even to breathe. Wolfe gave a low grumbling bark, and resumed his couchant posture as if nothing worthy o£ his attention was near to cause the disturbance. Catharine trembled and wept, and prayed for safety against the Indians and beas+s of prey, and Hector and Louis listened, till they fell asleep in spite of their fears. In the morning, it seemed as if they had dreamed some terrible dream, so vague 'ere their recollections of the fright they had had, but the cause was soon perceived. A lai^^ stone that had been heaved up with the clay that adhered to the roots and fibres, had been loosened, and had fallen on the ground, close to the spot where Catharine lay. So ponderous was the mass, THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 153 lear a small a spring of and smoked spring; and )rayers, they jad pillowed dian, Wolfe, ng sound, as led them all 30 dark they ick, they sat Lness of their each other, gave a low liis couchant his attention e. Catharine safety against d Hector and 1 spite of their as if they had guc -ere their i had, hut the ^ stone that f that adhered loosened, and the spot where as the mass, that had it struck her, death must have been the consequence of the blow ; li-nd Hector and Louis beheld it with fear and amazement, while Catharine regarded it as a proof of Divine mercy and protection from Him in whose hand her safety lay. The boys, warned by this acci- dent, carefully removed several large stones from the roof, and tried the safety of their clay walls with a stout staff, to ascertain that all was secure, before they again ventured to sleep beneath tliis rugged canopy. 154 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. CHAPTER V. " The oul of the wicked desireth evil; his neighbour findeth i favour in his eyes." — Proverbs. For several days, tliey abstained from lighting a fire, lest tlie smoke should be seen ; but this, the great height of the bank would have effectually prevented. They suffered much cold at night from the cop s dews, wliich, even on sultry summer's evenings, is productive of much chill- ing. They could not account for the fact that the air, at night, was much warmer on the high hills tb.an in the low valleys ; they were even sensible of a rush of heat as they ascended to the higher ground. Tliese simple children had not been taught that it is the nature of the heated air to ascend, and its place to be supplied by the colder and denser particles. They noticed the effects, but understood nothing of the causes that ruled them. The following days they procured several partridges, but feared to cook them ; however, they pluclc'i ili^^m, split them open, and dried the fltoh :'or a iUiure day A fox or racoon, s. THE CANADIAN CRUSOFS. 155 il; his neighbour from ligliting a I ; "but tliis, the lave effectually cold at niglit 5ven on sultry of mucli chill - )r the fact that ler on the high liey were even ey ascended to le children lia'l nature of the to be supplied They noticed Lg of the causes rocured several hem; however. :)pen, and dried fox or racoon, attracted by the smell of the birds, came one night, and carried them off, for in the morning they were gone. They saw several herd of deer crossing the plain, and one day Wolfe tracked a wounded doe to a covert under the po])lars, near a hidden spring, where she had lain herself down to die in peace, far from the haunts of her fellows. The arrow was in her throat ; it was of white flint, and had evidently been sent from an Indian bow. It was almost with fear and trembling that they availed them ^.< 1 3S of the venison thus providentially thrown in their way, lest the Indians should track the blood of the doe, and take vengeance on them for appro- priating it for their own use. Not having seen anything of the Indians, who seemed to confine themselves to the neighbourhood of the lake, after many days had passed, they began to take courage, and even lighted an evening fire, at which they cooked as much venison as would last them for several days, and himg ^he remaining portions above the smoke to prcr;erve it from injury. One morning, Hector proclaimed his intention of ascending the hills, in the direction of the Indian camp. " I am tired of remaining shut up in this dull place, where we can see nothing but tids dead flat, bounded by those melancholy |)ines in the ^'stance that seem to shut us in." 1 !,! I' t ■ (• I , > 156 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Little did Hector know that beyond that dark ridge of pine hills lay the home of their child- hood, and but a few miles of forest intervened to hide it from their sight. Had he known it, how eagerly would his feet have pressed onward in the direction of that dark barrier of ever- greens ! Thus is it often in this life : we wander on, sad and perplexed, our path beset with thorns and briars. We cannot see our way clear ; doubts and apprehensions assail us. We know not how near we are to the fulfilment of our wishes ; we see only the insurmountable barriers, the dark thickets and thorns of our way ; and we know not how near we are to our Father's home, where he is waiting to welcome i\w wanderers of the flock back to the everlasting home, the fold of the Good Shepherd. Hector became impatient of the restraint that the dread of the Indians imposed upon his movements ; he wanted to see the lake again, and to roam abroad free and uncontrolled. ''After all," said he; "we never met witli any ill treatment from the Indians that used to visit us at Cold Springs ; we may even find old friends and acquaintances among them." " The thing is possible, but not very likely,' replied Louis. " Nevertheless, Hector, I would IS. rond. that dark of their child- est intervened L he known it, iressed onward irrier of ever- wander on, sad ith thorns and ' clear ; doubte; We know not of our wishes; e barriers, the • way ; and we Father's home, the wanderer?^ ting home, the le restraint that osed upon his he lake again, ontrolled. lever met witli ms that used to ly even find old them." ot very likely,' Eector, I woukl THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 157 not willingly put myself in their power. The Indian has his own notion of tilings, and might think himself quite justified in killing us, if he found us on his hunting-grounds.* I have heard my father say, — and he knows a great deal about the? e people, — that their chiefs are very stri^^t in punishing any strangers that they find killing game on thoir bounds uninvited. They are both merciless and treacherous when angered, and we could not even speak to them in their own language, to explain by what chance we came here." This was very prudent of Louis, uncommonly so, for one who was naturally rash and head- sti'ong, but unfortunately Hector was inflexible and wilful : vvhcn once he had made up his mind upon any point, he had too good an opinion of his own judgment to give it up. At last, he * George Copway, an intelligent Rice Lake Indian, says the Indian hunting-grounda are parcelled out, and secured by right of law and custom among themselvi's, no one being allowed to hunt upon another's grounds uninvited. If any one belonging to another family or tribe is found trespassing, all hi.s goods are taken from him ; a handful of powder and shot, as much as he would need to shoot game for his suste- nance in returning straight home, and his gun, knife, and tomahawk only are left, but all his game and furs are taken from him : a message is sent to his chief, and if he trans- gresses a third time, he is banished and outlawed. — Life of Q. ' Copxcay, Missionary, written by himself. 158 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. i I .v! ,. 'K il';i declared liis intention, ratlier than remain a slave to such cowardly fears as he now deemed the*^, to go forth boldly, and endeavour to as- certain what the Indians were about, how many tlicro were of them, and what real danger was to be apprehended from facing them. " Depend upon it," he added, '* cowards are never safer than brave men. TJie Indians de- spise cowards, and would be more likely to kill us if they found us cowering here in this hole like a parcel of wolf-cubs, than if we openly faced them and showed that we neither feared them, nor cared for them." " Hector, dear Hector, be not so rash ! " cried his sister, passionately weeping. " Ah ! if wo were to lose you, what would become of us?" " Never fear, Kate ; I will run into no needless danger. I know how to take care of myself. I am of opinion that the Indian camp is broken up ; they seldom stay long in one place. I will go over the hills and examine the camp at a distance and the lake shore. You and Louis may keep watch for my return from the big pine that we halted under on our way hither." " But, Hector, if the savages should see yoU; and take you prisoner," said Catharine, " what would you do? " ES. lian remain a le now deemed Lcleavour to as- lout, how many ml danger wat^ em. , " cowards arc 'lie Indians de- re likely to kill 'A'Q in this hok II if we (j[)('M\y 3 neitlier feared so rashl" cried . " Ah ! if wc eome of us?" into no needless care of myself, camp is broken le place. I will the camp at a You and Louis iturn from the er on our way should see you. atharine, " what THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 159 " I will tcli you what I would do. Instead of running away, I would boldly walk up to them, and by signs make them understand tliat I am no scout, but a friend in need of nothing but kindness and friendsliip. I never y^et heard of the Indian tliat would tomahawk the defence- less stranger that sought liis camp openly in peace and goodwi|(." " Jf you do not rciilrii by stlhsel, Iloetot, we iliall believe tjjat you have fallen into the hands of the snvages/' gfli/l ^Jatharine, mournfully re- gnrding her brother. " If it were not ior Catharine," said Louis, *'you should not go ah>iie^ (/ut, if evil ))efel this helpless one, her blood would b<' upon my head, who led her out with ug, tempting her with false words." " Never mind that now, dearest cousin," said Catharine, tenderly laying her hand on his arm. ** It is lUuch better that we should have been all three together ; I should never have been happy again if I had lost both Hec and you. It is better as it is ; you and Hec would not have been so well off if I had not been with you to ibelp you, and keep up your spirits by my songs and stories." ' " It is true, ma chbre ; but that is the reason that I am bound to take care of my little cousin. 160 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 1- i':i. !'!■': Ji;l and I could not consent to exposing you to danger, or leaving you alone ; so, if Hec will be so headstrong, I will abide by you." Hector was so confident that he should return in safety, that at last Louis and Catharine became more reconciled to his leaving them, and soon busied themselves in preparing some squirrels that Louis had brought in that morning. The day wore away slowly, and many were the anxious glances that Catharine cast over the crest of the high bank to watch for her brother s return ; at last, unable to endure the suspense, she with Louis left the shelter of the valley ; they ascended the high ground, and bent their steps to the trysting tree, which commanded all the country within a wide sweep. A painful and oppressive sense of lonelines.< and desolation came over the minds of the cousins as they sat together at the foot of the pine, which cast its lengthened shadow upon the ground before them. The shades of evening were shrouding them, wrapping the lonely forest in gloom. The full moon had not yet risen, and they watched for the first gleam that should break above the eastern hills to cheer them, as for the coming of a friend. Sadly these two poor lonely ones sat hand in hand, talking of the happy days of childhood, o! :s. TlIK CANADIAN CRUSOES. IGl posing you to 0, if Hec will you. • should return and Catliariiu' leaving them, preparing some n that morning-, md many wen ae cast over the :or her hrotherV •e the suspense, the valley; they bent their step? imanded all the Lse of lonelinesi* minds of tlie the foot of the shadow upon the ,des of evening the lonely forest 1 not yet risen, .eam that should cheer them, as )nes sat hand in of childhood, of tlie perplexing present find the uncertain future. At last, wearied out with ^^■;ltching and anxiety, Catharine leaned lier head u] >n tlie neck of old Wolfe and fell a.<^ ej), while Louis re.'^tle.ssly paced to and fro in fr< 'Ut of the sleeper ; now- straining his eye to penetrate the surrounding gloom, now straining his ear to cateli the first sound that might indicate the approach of his absent cousin. It was almost with a feeling of irritability that he heard the quick sharp note of the wakeful " Wliip-poor-will," as she Hew from l)ough to bough of an old withered tree beside him. Another, and again another of these midnight watchers took up the monotonous never-varying ery of " Whip-poor-will, Whip- poor-will ; " and then came fortli, from many a hollow oak and birch, the spectral night-hawk from hidden dens, where it had lain hushed in si- lence all day, from dawn till sunset. Hometimes their sharp hard wings almost swept his cheek, as they wheeled round and round in circles, first narrow, then wide, and w^ider extending, till at last they soared far above the tallest tree-tops, r.nd launching out in the high regions of the . iiir, uttered from time to time a wild shrill Iscream, or hollow booming sound, as tlicy sud- jdenly descended to pounce with wide-extended M IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 14^^128 |2.5 |io **^* II^B Ui U^ 12.2 irhe 1^ 1*0 ■a IJ£ IIII.25 III 1.4 '':■:■ i. X' %. /F /: ^>^ '^J^/ ^.^ '» c? / /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 4^^^ n WiST MAIN STRHT WUSTM.N.Y. M5M 'yi6)t72-4S03 -# 6^ ^K msmmm i\ 162 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ! i n ■\ throat upv.n some hapless moth or insect, that sported all unheeding in mid air, happily uncon- scious of the approach of so unerring a foe. Petulantly Louis chid these discordant min- strels of the night, and joyfully he hailed the first gush of moonlight that rose broad and full and red, over the Oak-hills to the eastward. Louis envied the condition of the unconscious sleeper, who lay in happy forgetfulness of all her sorrows, her fair curls spread in unbound luxuriance over the dark shaggy neck of the faithful Wolfe, who seemed as if proud of the beloved burden that rested so trustingly upon him. Sometimes the carefal dog just unclosed his large eyes, raised his rose from his shaggy paws, snuffed the night aii, growled in a sort of under tone, and dosed again, but watchfully. It would be no easy task to tell the painful feelings that agitated young Louis's breast. He was angry with Hector, for having thus madly, as he thought, rushed into danger. " It was wilful and almost cruel," he thought "to leave them the prey of such tormenting fears on his account;" and then the most painful fears for the safety of his beloved companion took the place of less kindly thoughts, and sor ow filled his | _ heart. The broad moon now flooded the hills and vales with light, casting broad checkering THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 163 5ct. that r uncon- toe. lilt min- tiled tlie and full rard. jonscioua ss of all unbound -k of tlie id of the tgly upon unclosed \ is shaggy I a sort of ifully. le painful ceast. He us madly, " It was "to leave ears on his iars for the the place filled his ,d the hills checkering shadows of the old oaks' gi-ey branches and now reddened foliage across the ground. Suddenly the old dog raises his head, and utters a short half angry note: slowly and carefully he rises, disengaging nimself gently from the form of the sleeping girl, and stands forth in the full light of the moon. It is an open cleared space, that mound beneath the pine-tree; a few low shrubs and seedling pines, with the slender waving branches of the late- flowering pearly tinted asters, the elegant fringed gentian, with open bells of azure blue, the last and loveliest of the fall flowers and winter-greens, brighten the ground with wreaths of shining leaves and red berries. Louis is on the alert, though as yet he sees nothing. It is not a full free note of welcome, that Wolfe gives ; there is something uneasy and half angry in his tone. Yet it is not fierce, like the bark of angry defiance he gives, when wo]f, or bear, or wolverine is near. Louis steps forward from the shadow of the pine branches, to the edge of the inclined plane in the foreground. The slow tread of approach- ing steps is now distinctly heard advancing — it may be a deer. Two figures approach, and Louis moves a little v,ithin the shadow again. A clear shrill whistle meets his ear. 164 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. »• ■?' ' '\ ii It is Hector's whistle, he knows that, and assured by its cheerful tone, he springs forward and in an instant is at his side, but starts at the strange companion that he half leads, half carries. The moonlight streams broact and bright upon the shrinking figure of an Indian girl, apparently about the same age as Catharine : her ashy face is concealed by the long masses of raven black hair, which falls like a dark veil over her features; her step is weak and unsteady, and she seems ready to sink to the earth \vith sickness or fatigue. Hector, too, seems weary. The first words that Hector said were, " Help me, Louis, to lead this poor girl to the foot of the pine ; I am so tired I can hardly walk another step." Louis and his cousin together carried the Indian girl to the foot of the pine. Catharine was just rousing herself from sleep, and she gazed with a bewildered air on tlie strange companion that Hector had brought with him. The stranger lay down, and in a few minutes sank into a sleep so profound it seemed to resemble that of death itself. Pity and deep interest soon took the place of curiosity and dread in the heart of the gentle Catharine, and she watched the young stranger's slumber as tenderly as though she had been a sister, or I assured and in strange is. The ipon the iparently ishy face ren Hack * over her j eady, and = irth Nvith ns weary, i-e, "Help the foot irdly walk carried the Catharme , and she ;he strange with him. ew minutes seemed to y and deep uriosity and itharine, and slumher as a sister, or B" . '4.' sir i nii'.ii./ii li..iNU[N'. .1I£ lillU^wN. l,'.l! . \- 1 '.! 1^ .iSi: I THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 165 beloved fricncl, \rliile Hector proceeclccl to relate in what manner lie had encountered the Indian girl. " When I struck the high slope near tlic little birch grove wc called the ' hirhcn sJiaw,^ I paused to examine if tlie council-fires were still burning on Bare-hill, but tlierc was no smoke visible, neither was there a canoe to be seen at the lake shore where Louis had described their landing-place at the mouth of the creek. All seemed as silent and still as if no human footstep had trodden the shore. I sat down and watched for nearly an hour till my attention was attracted by a noble eagle, which was sailing in wide circles over the tall pine-trees on Bare-hill. Assured that the Indian camp was broken up, and feeling some curiosity to examine the spot more closely, I crossed the thicket of cranberries and cedars and small underwood that fringed the borders of the little stream, and found myself, after a little pushing and scrambling, among the bushes at the foot of the hill. • " I thought it not impossible I might find something to repay me for my trouble — flint aiTOW-heads, a knife, or a tomahawk — but I little thought of what these cruel savages had left there, — a miserable wounded captive, bound by I J ! i ^1' 166 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. the long locks of her hair to the stem of a small tree, her hands, tied by thongs of hide to branches which they had bent down to fasten them to her feet, bound fast to the same tree as that against which her head was fastened ; her position was one that must have been most painful : she had evidently been tl^us left to pe- rish by a miserable death, of hunger and thirst ; for these savages, with a fiendish cruelty, had placed within sight of their victim an earthen jar of water, some dried deers' flesh, and a cob * of Indian corn. I have the corn here," he added, putting his hand in his breast, and displaying it to view. " Wounded she was, for I drew this arrow from her shoulder," and he showed the flint head as he spoke, " and fettered ; with food and drink in sight, the poor girl was to perish, perhaps to become a living prey to the wolf, and the eagle that I saw wheeling above the hill top. The poor thing's lips were black and parched with pain and thirst; she turned her' eyes piteously from my face to the water jar as if to implore a draught. This I gave her, and then having cooled the festering T70und, and cut the thongs that bound her, I wondered that she still kept the same immovenble attitude, and * A head of the Maize, or Indian corn, ia called a " cob." THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 167 a small hide to fasten e tree as led; lier icn most eft to pe- id thirst; elty, had irthen jar a cob * of he added, iplaying it ^his arrow flint head food and to perish, the wolf, above the black and turned her" rater jar as re, her, and nd, and cut •ed that she titude, and lied a " cob." thinking she was stiff and cramped with re- maining so long bound ii. one position, I took lier two hands and tried to induce her to move. I then for the first time noticed that slic was tied by the hair of her head to the tree against wliich her back was placed ; I was obliged to cut the hair with my knife, and this I did not do without giving her pain, as she moaned impatiently. She sunk her head on her breast, and large tears fell over my hands, as I bathed her face and neck with the water from tlie jar ; she then seated lierself on the ground, and remained silent and still for the space of an hour, nor could I prevail upon her to speak, or quit the seat she had taken. Fearing that the Indians miglit return, I Vv'atched in all directions, and at last I began to think it would be best to carry her in my arms ; but this T found no easy task, for she seemed greatly distressed at any attempt I made to lift her, and by her ges- tures I fancy slie thought I was going to kill her. At last my patience began to be exhausted, but I did not like to annoy her. I spoke to her as gently and soothingly as I could. By degrees she seemed to listen with more composure to me, though she evidently knew not a word of what I said to her. She rose at last, and taking my hands, placed them above her head, stooping low I f f •■ v) i i 1 '11 ' 1 1G8 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. l.t a.-j slic (lid so, and this seemed to mean, slic was willing at last to submit to my wishes ; I lifted her from the ground, and carried her for some little way, but she was too heavy for nic, — she then suffered me to lead her along whithersoever I Avould take her, but her steps were so slow and feeble, through weakness, that many times I was compelled to rest while she recovered herself. She seems quite subdued now, and as quiet as a lamb." Catharine listened, not without tears of genuine sympathy, to the recital of her brother's ad- ventures. She seemed to think he had been inspired by God to go forth that day to the Indian camp, to rescue the poor forlorn one from so dreadful a death. Louis's sympathy was also warmly aroused for the young savage, and he commended Hector for his bravery and humanity. He then set to work to light a good fire, which was a great addition to their comfort as well as cheerfulness. They did not go back to their cave beneath the upturned trees, to sleep, prefemng lying, with their feet to the fire, under the shade of the pine. Louis, however, was despatched for water and venison for supper. The following morning, by break of day, they collected their stores, and conveyed them back THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 1G9 can, slic 4slic3; I d licv for icavy for ,cr along her steps ness, that while she siihduccl of genuine ther's ad- had heen lay to the n one from ly aroused ded Hector good fire, comfort as go back to to sleep, the fire, owever,was supper. >f day, they them hack to the shanty. Tlic hoys were thus eniph)yed, while Catharine watched beside the wounded Indian girl, wliom she tended witli the greatest care. She bathed the inflamed arm witli water, and bound tlic cool liealing leaves of tlic taccunahac'^' about it with the hist fragment of her apron, she steeped dried berries in Avater, and gave the cooling drink to quench tlie fever- thirst that burned in her veins, and glittered in lier full soft melancholy dark eyes, whicli were raised at intervals to the face of lier youtliful nurse, with a timid hurried glance, as if she longed, yet feared to say, " Who are you that thus tenderly bathe my aching head, and strive to soothe my wounded limbs, and cool my fcA ered blood? Are you a creature like myself, or a being sent by the Great Spirit, from the far-off happy land to which my fathers have gone, to smooth my path of pain, and lead me to those blessed fields of sunbeams and flowers where the cruelty of the enemies of my people will no more have power to torment me ?" * ludiau balsam. t* 170 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. CHAPTER VI. " Hero the wren of softest note Builds its nest and warbles well ; Here the blackbird strains his throat ; Wolconie, welcome to our cell." — Coleridge. i ar The day was far advanced, before the sick Indian girl could be brouglit liome to their sylvan lodge, where Catharine made up a comfortable couch for her, with boughs and grass, and spread one of the deer-skins over it, and laid her down as tenderly and carefully as if she had been a dear sister. This good girl was overjoyed at having found a companion of her own age and sex. *' Now," said she, " I shall no more be lonely, I shall have a companion and friend to taik to and assist me ;" but when she turned in the fulness of her heart to address herself to the young stranger, she felt herself embarrassed in what way to make her com- prehend the words she used to express the kind- ness that she felt for her, and her sorrow for her sufferings. The young stranger would raise her head, look intently at her, as if striving to interpret Ji, :!,:'i THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 171 licr "words, tlicn sadly shako lior head, and utter her words in her own plaintive lan- guage, but, alas! Catharine felt it was to her as a sealed book. She tried to recal some Indian words of familiar import, that she had lieard from the Indians when they came to her father's house, but in vain ; not the simplest phrase occuiTed to her, and she almost cried with vexation at her own stupidity ; neither was Hector or Louis more fortunate in attempts at conversing with their guest. At the end of three days, the fever began to abate ; the restless eye grew more steady in its gaze, the dark flush faded from the cheek, leaving it of a grey ashy tint, not the hue of health, such as even the swarthy Indian shows, but wan and pallid, her eyes bent mournfully on the ground. She would sit quiet and passive while Catharine bound up the long tresses of her fU herself ^^^^^' ^^^ smoothed them with her hands and the small wooden comb that Louis had cut for her use. Sometimes she would raise her eyes to her new friend's face, with a quiet sad smile, and once she took her hands within her own, her head ^^^ g®^*ty pressed them to her breast and lips 'nternret r^^ forehead in token of gratitude, but she at; iJoLEUIDGE. before the it home to I made up a boughs and ikins over it, larefully as if 'ood girl was anion of her ;, " I shall no npanion and )ut when she rt to address ke her com- ess the kind- er sorrow for ,\ ) I ii l< tj: I I ii i 172 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. seldom gave utterance to any words, and would remain with lier eyes fixed vacantly on some object which seemed unseen or to awaken no idea in her mind. At such times the face of the young srjuaw wore a dreamy apathy of expression, or rather it might with more pro- priety liavc been said, the absence of all expression, almost as blank as that of an infant of a few weeks old. How intently did Catharine study that face, and strive to read what was passing within her mind ! how did the lively intelligent Canadian girl, the offspring of a more intellectual race, long to instruct her Indian friend, to enlarge her mind by pointing out such things to her attention as she herself took interest in! She would then repeat the name of the object that she showed her several times over, and by degrees the young squaw learned the names of all the familiar household articles about the shanty, and could repeat them in her own soft plaintive tone ; and when she had learned a new word, and could pronounce it distinctly, she would laugh, and a gleam of innocent joy and pleasure would lighten up her fine dark eyes, generally so fixed and sad-looking. It was Catharine's delight to teach her pupil to speak a language familiar to her own ears ; '3 c; THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 173 and would J on some iwaken no the face of a^oatliy of more pro- iice of all f an infant y that face, ; within her it Canadian Lectual race, ) enlarge her ngs to her jst in! She object that ^cr, and hy he names of ahout the ler own soft larned a new stinctly, she ;ent joy and : e dark eyes, .ch her pupil er own ears ; she would lead her out among the trees, and name to her all the natural objects that pre- sented themselves to view. And she in lier turn made " Indiana" (for so they named tlie young squaw, after a negrcss that she had lieard her father tell of, a nurse to one of his Colonel's infant children,) tell her the Indian names for each object they saw. Indiana soon began to enjoy in ]icr turn the amusement arising from instructing Catharine and the boys, and often seemed to enjoy the blunders they made in pronouncing the words she taught tliem. When really interested in anything that Avas going on, her eyes would beam out, and her smile gave an inexpressible charm to her face, for her lips were red and her teeth even and brilliantly white, so purely white that Catharine thought she had never seen any so beautiful in her life before ; at such times her face was joyous and innocent as a little child's, but there were also hours of gloom, that transformed it into an expression of sullen apathy ; then a dull glassy look took possession of her eye, the fall lip drooped and the form seemed rigid and stiff; obstinate determination neither to move nor speak characterised her in what Louis used to call the young squaw's " darh hoiiry Then it was that the savage nature seemed predominant, ■ I' H 174 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. and her gentle nurse almost feared to look at her protegee or approach her. " Hector," said Louis, " you spoke about a jar of water being left at the camp ; the jar would be a great treasure to us, let us go over for it." Hector assented to the proposal. " And we may possibly pick up a few gi-ains of Indian corn, to add to what you showed us." " If we are here in the spring," said Hector, " you and I will prepare a small patch of ground and plant it with this corn ;" and he sat down on the end of u log and began carefully to count the rows of grain on the cob, and then each corn grain by grain. " Three hundred and ten sound grains. Now if every one of these produces a strong plant, we shall have a great increase, and beside seed for another year, there will be, if it is a good year, several bushels to eat." " We shall have a glorious summer, mon ami, no doubt, and a fine flourishing crop, and Kate is a good hand at making sup- porne." * " You forget we have no porridge pot." " I was thinking of that Indian jar all the time. You will see what fine cookery we will * Supporne, probably an Indian word for a stir-about, or porridge, made of Indian meal, a common dish in every Canadian or Yankee farmer's house. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 175 :o look at e al)out a ? ; tlic jai- ls go over 5al. "And s of Indiau > lid Hector, h. of ground le sat down lly to count in each corn [id ten sound produces a ncrease, and ill l)e, if it ,t." pmer, mon ling crop, taking sup- pot." jar all the :ery we will a stir-about, or dish in every make when we get it, if it will but stand fire. Come, let us be off, I am impatient till we get it home ;" and Louis, who had now a new crotchet at work in his fertile and vivacious brain, was quite on the qui vive, and walked and danced along at a rate which proved a great disturbance to his graver companion, who tried to keep down his cousin's lively spirits, by suggesting the probability of the jar being cracked, or that the Indians might have returned for it ; but Louis was not one of the doubting sort, and Louis was right in not damping the ardour of his mind by causeless fears. The jar was there at the deserted camp, and though it had been knocked over by some animal, it was sound and strong, and excited great speculation in the two cousins, as to the particular material of which it waj made, as it was unlike any sort of pottery they had ever before seen. It seemed to have been manufactured from some very dark red earth, or clay mixed up with pounded granite, as it presented the appearance of some coarse crystals ; it was very hard and ponderous, and the surface ] was marked over in a rude sort of pattern as if j punctured and scratched with some pointed I instrument. It seemed to have been hardened by fire, and, from the smoked hue of one oide, had evidently done good service as a cooking utensil. i ' 17G THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Sul)seqnently tliey learned the way in which it was used:* the jar being placed near hut not on the fire, was surrounded by hot embers, and the water made to boil by stones being made red hot and plunged into it: in this way soup and other food were prepared, and kept stewing, vrith no further trouble after once the simmering began, than adding a few fresh embers at the side furthest from the fire ; a hot stone also placed on the top, facilitated the cooking process. Louis, who like all French people was addicted to cookery, — indeed it was an accomplishment he prided himself on, — was enchanted with tlie improvement made in their diet by the ac- quisition of the said earthen jar, or pipkin, and gave Indiana some praise for initiating his cousin in the use of it. Catharine and Hector declared that he went out with his bow and arrows, and visited his dead-falls and snares, ten times oftener than he used to do, just for the sake of proving the admirable properties of this precious utensil, and finding out some new way of dressing his game. * Pieces of tliis rude pottery are often found .along tlif shores of the inland lakes, but I have never met Avith any of the perfect vessels in use with the Indians, who probably find it now easier to supply themselves with iron pots and crockery from the towns of the European settlers. i.ii THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 177 t , which it )Ut not on s, and the ,dc red hot and other CT, Avith no ing hegan, ,t the side also placed 3cess. ^^as addicted Aishmenthe a with the \tj the ac- pipldn, and itiating his and llector liis how and ,d snares, ten just for the lerties of this |me new way Ifound along the i met with any of Is, who probably and Ith u'on pots ktlers. At all events there was a valuahle increase of furs, for making up into clothing, caps, leggings, mitts, and other articles. From the Indian girl Catharine learned th(> value of many of the herbs and sliruhs tliat grew in her path, the hark and leaves of various trees, and many dyes she could extract, witb wliich she stained the quills of the porcupine and the strips of the wood of which she made baskets and mats. The little creeping winter- green,'^ with its scarlet berries, that grows on tl^^ dry flats, or sandy hills, wh'ch the Canadians call spice-berry, she showed them was good to eat, and she would crush the leaves, draw forth their fine aromatic flavour in her hands, and then inhale their fragrance Avith delight. She made an infusion of the leaves, and drank it as a tonic. The inner bark of the wild black cherry, she said was good to cure ague and fever. The root of the dulgamara, or bitter-sweet, she scraped down and boiled in the deer-ftit, or the fat of any other animal, and made an oiniment that possessed very healing qualities, especially as an immediate application to fresh burns. Sometimes she showed a disposition to mys- tery, and would conceal the knowledge of the * Gaallheria procumhens, — Spice Winter-green. N 178 THE CANADIAN CRTTSOES. particular herbs slic made use of; and Catharine several times noticed that she would go out and sprinkle a portion of the food she had assisted her in preparing, on the earth, or under some of the trees or bushes. When she was more fa- miliar with their language, she told Catharine this was done in token of gratitude to the Good Spirit, who had given them success in hunting or trapping ; or else it was to appease the malice of the Evil Spirit, who might bring mischief or loss to them, or sickness or death, unless his for- bearance was purchased by some particular mark of attention.* Attention, memory, and imitation, appeared to form the three most remarkable of the mental faculties developed by the Indian girl. She examined (when once her attention was roused) any object with critical minuteness. Any know- ledge she had once acquired, she retained ; her memory was great, she never missed a path she * By the testimony of many of the India. . themselves, they appear to entertain a certain Polytheism in their belief. " AVe believed in one great wise benevolent being, Thesha- mon-e-doo, whose dwelling was in the sim. We believed also in many other lesser spirits — gods of the elements, and in one bad unappeasable spirit, Mah-je-mah-ne-doo, to whom we at- tributed bad luck, evil accidents, and sickness and death. This bad spirit has to be conciliated with meat and drink offerings." — Life of George Cojpimy, Native Missionarij. 1 0] tri ■\\i THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 179 latharinc out and assisted [' some oi more fa- Catliarinc tlie Good n Imnting the malice Liiscliief or less liis fov- Icular mark 1, appeared : tlie mental girl. Slie ^yas roviscd) Any know- jtained ; lier a path slie tlieiuselves, in their belief, being, Theslia- believedalsoin ata, and in one ;o wbom we at- bess and death. ^ Leat and drink | \is8ionarij. 1 had once trodden; she seemed even to single out particular birds in a flock, to know tliem from their congeners. Her powers of imitation were also great ; she brought patience and perse- verance to assist her, and when once thoroughly interested in any work she began, she would toil on untiringly till it was completed; and then what triumph shone in her eyes ! At such times they became darkly brilliant with the joy that filled her heart. But she possessed little talent for invention ; what she had seen done, after a few imperfect attempts, she could do again, but she rarely struck out any new path for herself. At times she was docile and even playful, and appeared grateful for the kindness with which she was treated ; each day seemed to increase her fondness for Catharine, and she appeared to delight in doing any little service to please and gratify her, but it was towards Hector that she displayed the deepest feeling of affection and respect. It was to him her first tribute of fruit or flowers, furs, mocassins, or ornamental plu- mage of rare birds was offered. She seemed to turn to him as to a master and protector. He was in her eyes the " Chief/' the head of his tribe. His bow was strung by her, and stained 1 i 'A 180 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ^f with quaint figures and devices ; liis arrows were carved by lier ; the sheatli of deer-skin was made and ornamented by her hands, that he carried his knife in ; and the ease for his arrows, of birch-bark, was wrouglit Avith especial neatness, and suspended by thongs to his neck, wdien lie was preparing to go out in search of game. She gave him the name of the " Young Eagle." While she called Louis, " Nee-chee," or friend ; to Catharine she gave the poetical name of, " Music of the Winds," — Ma-wah-osh. When they asked her to tell them her own name, she would bead down her head in sorrow and refuse to pronounce it. She soon answered to the name of Indiana, and seemed pleased witli the sound. But of all the household, next to Hector, old Wolfe was her greatest favourite. At first, it is true, the old dog regarded the new inmate with a jealous eye, and seemed uneasy Avhcn he saw her approach to caress him, but Indiana soon reconciled him to her person, and a mutual friendly feeling became established between them, which seemed daily and hourly to in- crease, greatly to the delight of the young stranger. She w^ould seat herself Eastern fashion. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 181 arrows ccr-sl^in xls, that Liaric ibr vlit >vitli Uong?* to i-o out iu uic of tlie ;t\ Louis, slic gave ^Vinds," — n licr own I in sorrow n answered Acasedwitli lllcctor, old .t first, it is umatc witli lien lie saw ndiana soon Id a mutual led l>etwecn lourly to in- tlic young iternfasliion, cross-legged on the floor of the shnnty, with the capacious head of the old dog in licr lap, and address herself to tliis mute companion, in wail- ing tones, as if she w^ould unhurthen her heart by pouring into his unconscious ear her tale of desolation and woe. Catliarine was always very particular and punctual in performing her personal ablutions, and she intimated to Indiana that it was good for lier to do the same ; but tlie yoimg girl seemed reluctant to follow her example, till daily custom had reconciled her to what she evidently at first regarded as an unnecessary ceremony ; but she soon took pleasure in dressing her dark hair, and suflering Catharine to braid it, and polish it till it looked glossy and soft. Indiana in her turn would adorn Catharine with the wings of the blue-bird or red-bird, the crest of the wood-duck, or quill feathers of the golden- winged flicker, which is called in the Indian tongue the shot-bird, in allusion to the round spots on its cream-coloured breast : * but it was not in these things alone she showed her grate- ful sense of the sisterly kindness that her young * The Golden-winged Flicker belongs to a sub-genus of woodpeckers ; it is very handsome, and is said to be eatable ; it lives on fruits and insects. I ' 182 THE CANADIAN CRUBOES. hostess showed to lier; she soon learned to lighten her labours in every household work, and above all, she spent her time most .isefully in manufacturing clothing from the skins of the wild animals, and in teaching Catharine how to fit and prepare them ; but these were the occu- pation of the winter months. I must not fore- stall my narrative. i oj ai THE CANADIAN CRU.S0E8. 183 irncd to Id work, u of tlie e how to the occu- , not fore- ClLVrTER VII. «' Go to the ani"—P)'ovcybs. It was now the middle of Hcptcmber; tlic weather, which had continued serene and heau- tiful for some time, with dewy nights and misty mornings, began to show symptoms of tlie change of season usual at the approach of the equinox. Sudden squalls of wind, with hasty showers, would come sweeping over the lake : the nights and mornings were damp and cliiily. Already the tints of autumn were beginning to crimson the foliage of the oaks, and where the islands were visible, the splendid colours of the maple shone out in gorgeous ^.ontrast with the deep verdure of the evergreens and light golden- yellow of the poplar ; but lovely as they now looked, they had not yet reached the meridian of their beauty, which a few frosty nights at tlie close of the month was destined to bring to per- fection — a glow of splendour to gladden the eye for a brief space, before the rushing winds and rains of the following month were to sweep ! I 184 THE CANADIAN CRUSOFA I- f f) ( i *' I I ■J tlioni away, and scatter tlicm abroad upon the earth. One morning, just after a night of heavy rain and wind, the two hoyw >vont down to ace if the lake waH calm cnougli for trying tlie raft, which Louis had finished before the coming on of the had weather. Tlie water Avas rough and crested with mimic waves, and tliey felt not disposed to launch the raft on so stormy a surface, hut they stood looking out over the lake and ad- miring the changing foliage, when Hector pointed out to his cousin a dark speck dancing on the waters, between the two nearest islands. The wind, which blew very strong still from the north-east, brought the object nearer every minute. At first they thought it miglit be a pine-branch that was floating on the surface, when as it came bounding over the waves, they perceived that it was a birch-canoe, but impelled by no visible arm. It was a strange sight upon that lonely lake to see a vessel of any kind afloat, and, on first deciding that it was a canoe, the boys were inclined to hide themselves among the bushes, for fear of the Indians, but curiosity got the better of their fears. " The owner of yonder little craft is either asleep or absent from her ; for I see no paddle, and it is evidently drifting without any one to ( .s t; C( hi q\ Isii 1 lii THE CANADIAN CKIISOES. 185 \ipon tlic icavy rain ace if the aft, wliicU on of tUo viuT CVCBtCU )t disposed uvrfaco, "Init ke and ad- ^cn Hector cck dancing vest islands. g still from [nearer every migl^t l)c a the surface, waves, they Imt impelled e sight upon 1 of any kind j was a canoe, ^selves among hut curiosity •raft is either ,ee no paddle, ut any one to j^ulde It," said Hector, after intently watcliing the progress of the tenipest-drlven vessel ; assured as it approaclied nearer tliat sueli was tlu; case, they liurried to the heacli just as a fresli gust had lodged the canoe among the hranches of a fallen cedar which projected out some way into the water. By creeping along the trunk of the tree, and trusting at times to the projecting houghs, Louis, who was the most active and the lightest of weight, succeeded in getting within reach of the canoe, and with some trouhle and the help of a stout branch that Hector handed to him, he con- trived to moor her in safety on the shore, taking the precaution of hauling her well up on the shingle, lest the wind and water should set her afloat again. " Ilec, there is something in this canoe, the sight of which will gladden your heart," crlod Louis with a joyful look. " Come quickly, and see my treasures." " Treasures ! You may welUcall them trea- sures," exclaimed Hector, as he helped Louis to examine the contents of the canoe, and place them on the shore, side by side. The boys could hardly find words to express heir joy and surprise at the discovery of a large ar of parched rice, a tomahawk, an Indian lanket almost as good as new, a large mat 4 " .ih lit % 11 I 186 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. rolled up witli a bass bark rope several yards in leng^i Avoimd round it, and what was more preeious than all, an iron three-legged pot in whieli was a quantity of Indian corn. These articles had evidently constituted the stores of some Indian hunter or trapper; possibly the canoe had been imperfectly secured and had drifted from its moorings during the gale of the previous night, unless by some accident the owner had fallen into the lake and been drowned ; this was of course only a matter of conjecture on whicli it was useless to speculate, and the boys joyfully took possession of the good fortune that had so providentially been Avafted, as it were, to their very feet. " It was a capital chance for us, that old cedar having been blown down last night just where it was," said Louis ; " for if the canoe had not been drawn into the eddy, and stopped by the branches, we might have lost it. I trem- bled when I saAV»tlie wind driving it on so rapidly that it would founder in the deep water, or go off to Long Island." " I think we should have got it at Pine-tree Point," said Hector, "but I am glad it was lodged so cleverly among the cedar boughs. I was half afraid you would have fallen in once or twice, when you were trying to draw it nearer to the shore." I THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 187 ral yards v^as more d i^ot in L. These stores of isibly tlie and liad ale of the ddent the drowned; conjecture }, and the )od fortune fted, as it that old night just the canoe d stopped t. Itrem- so rapidly [ater, or go Pine-tree was lodged I was half lwice,when lie shore." " Never fear for me, my friend ; I can cling like a wild cat when I climb. But what a grand pot ! What delightful soups, and stews, and boils, Catliarine will make! Hurrah ! " and Louis tossed up his new fur cap, that he had made with great skill from an entire fox skin, in the air, and cut sundry fantastic capers which Hector gravely condemned as unbecoming his mature age ; (Louis was turned of fifteen ;) but with the joyous spirit of a little child he sung, and danced, and lauglied, and shouted, till the lonely echoes of the islands and far-off hills returned the unusual sound, and even his more steady cousin caught the infection, and laughed to see Louis so elated. Leaving Hector to guard the prize, Louis ran gaily off to fetch Catharine to share his joy, and come and admiic the canoe, and the blanket, and tlie tripod, and the corn, and the tomahawk. Lidiana accompanied them to the lake shore, and long and carefully slie examined the canoe and its contents, and many were the plaintive exclamations she uttered as she surveyed the things piece by piece, till she took notice of the broken handle of an Indian paddle which lay at tlie bottom of the vessel ; this seemed to afford .some solution to her of the mystery, and by broken words and signs she intimated that the i ; f! ;i ■^•;i * !■ ' . I, 188 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ;vi: |{ .j)v II '•'') paddle had possibly broken in the hand of the Indian, and that in endeavoaring lo regain the other part, he had lost his balance and been drowned. She showed Hector a rude figure of a bird engraved with some sharp instrument, and rubbed in with a blue colour. This, she said, was the totem or crest of the chief of the tribe, and was meant to represent a croiv. The canoe had belonged to a chief of that name. While they were dividing the contents of the canoe among them to be carried to the shanty, Indiana, taking up the bass-rope and the blanket, bim- dled up the most of the things, and adjusting the broad thick part of the rope to the front of her head, she bore off the burden with great apparent ease, as a London or Edinburgh porter would his trunks and packages, turning round with a merry glance and repeating some Indian words with a lively air as she climbed with apparent ease the steep bank, and soon distanced her companions, to her great enjoyment. That night, Indiana cooked some of the parched rice, Indian fashion, with venison, and they enjoyed the novelty very much — it made an excellent substitute for bread, of which they had been so long deprived. Indiana gave them to understand that the rice harvest would soon be ready on the lake, I THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 189 -1 c ^\^Q I and that now tlicy had got a canoe, they would I go out and gather it, and so hiy by a store to ^o-ain the iind "been \ igure of a | ment, and , she said, the trihe, The canoe e. While the canoe y, Indiana, mket, hun- \ adjusting the front of with great furgh porter [ning round ,onie Indian [imbed with >n distanced ent. That larched rice, liey enjoyed ,n excellent Had been so id that the m the lake, last them for many months. This little incident furnished the inhabitants of the shanty with frequent themes for discussion. Hector declared that the Indian corn was the most valuable of their acquisitions. "It will insure us a crop, and bread and seed-corn for many years," he said ; he also highly valued the tomahawk, as his axe was worn and blunt. Louis was divided between the iron pot and the canoe. Hector seemed to think the raft, after all, might have formed a substitute for the lat- ter ; besides, Indiana had signified her intention of helping him to make a canoe. Catharine declared in favour of the blanket, as it would make, after thorough ablutions, warm petticoats Avith tight bodices for herself and Indiana. With deer-skin leggings, and a fur jacket, they should he comfortably clad. Indiana thought the canoe the most precious, and was charmed with the good jar and the store of rice : nor did she despise the packing rope, which slie soon showed was. of use in carrying burdens from place to place, Indian fashion : by placing a pad of soft fur in front of the head, she could carry heavy loads with great ease. The mat, she said, was useful for drying the rice sli'.' meant to store. i ^ 190 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 1;. ii I 3 '\^i i-" i :1i I ;i^ The very next day after tliis adventure, the two girls set to work, and with the help of Louis's large knife, which was called into requi- sition as a substitute for scissors, they cut out the blanket dresses, and in a short time made two comfortable and not very unsightly gar- ments : the full, short, plaited skirts reached a little below the knee ; light vests bordered with fur completed the upper part, and leggings, ter- minated at the ankles by knotted fringes of the doe-skin, with mocassins turned over with a band of squirrel fur, completed the novel but not very unbecoming costume ; and many a glance of innocent satisfaction did our young damsels cast upon each other, when they walked forth in tlie pride of girlish vanity to display their dresses to Hector and Louis, who, for their parts, regarded them as most skilful dress-makers, and were never tired of admiring and commending their ingenuity in the cutting, making and fitting, considering what rude implements they were obliged to use in the cu+ting out and sewing of the garments. The extensive rice beds on the lake had now begun to assume a golden tinge which contrasted very delightfully with the deep blue waters — looking, when lighted up by the sunbeams, like islands of golden- coloured sand. The ears, heavy THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 191 turc, tlie , help of ito requi- Y cut out Line made ;litly gar- rcaclied a lered witli rrings, tev- iges of the er with a vel hut not ly a glance ng damsels alkcd forth isplay then- then- parts, makers, and [ommending and fitting, they were |d sewing of [Ice had now jh contrasted [le waters— [ihcams, like , ears, heavy laden with the ripe gi-ain, drooped towards the water. The time of the rice-liarvcst was at liand, and with liglit and joyous hearts our young adventurers launched the canoe, and, guided in their movements hy tlic little squaw, paddled to the extensive aquatic fields to gather it in, leaving Catharine and AVolfe to watch their proceedings from the raft, which Louis had fastened to a young tree that projected out over the lake, and which made a good landing-place, likewise a wdiarf where tliey could stand and fish very comfortahly. As the canoe could not he overloaded on account of the rice-gathering, Catharine very readily consented to employ herself with fishing from the raft till their return. The manner of procuring the rice was very simple. One person steered the canoe with the aid of the paddle along the edge of the rice heds, and another with a stick in one hand, and a curved shai*p-edged paddle in the oilier, struck the heads off as they bent chem over the edge of the stick ; the chief art w^as in letting the lieadb fall into the canoe, which a little practice soon enabled them to do as expertly as tlic mower lets the grass fall in ridges beneath his scythe. ^lany bushels of wild rice wxre thus collected. • 1 '■i \ t ■m 192 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Nothing could be more cleliglitfiil tlian this sort of work to our young people, and merrily they worked, and laughed, and sung, as they came home each day with their light bark, laden witli a store of grain that they knew wouid preserve them from starving through the long, dreary winter that was coming on. The canoe was a source of great comfort and pleasure to them ; they were now able to paddle out into the deep water, and fish for masquinonjo and black bass, which they caught in great num- bers. Indiana seemed quite another creature when, aimed with a paddle of her own carving, she knelt at the head of the canoe and sent it flying over the water ; then her dark eyes, often so vacant and glassy, sparkled with delight, and her teeth gleame \ with ivory whiteness as her face broke into smiles and dimples. It was delightfu 'hen to watch this child of nature, and see how innocently happy she could be when rejoicing in the excitement of healthy exercise, and elated by a consciousness of the power she possessed of excelling her companions in feats of strength and skill which they had yet to acquire by imitating her. Even Louis was obliged to confess that the young savage knew more of the management of a he; no cloi THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 193 tills sort rlly tlicy ley came tden with , preserve dreary mfort and I to paddle asctuinonje o-rcat num- ,ture Avlien, rvrvlng, s^^6 iiit it flyi^^S js, often so .cllglit, and [ucss as lier Lis cliild of ly slie covild of liealthy liicss of tlie ] companions [liey liad yet ;ss that tlic igement of a canoe, and the use of the hows and arrows, and the fishing-line, than either himself or his cousin. Hector was lost in admiration of her skill in all these things ; and Indiana rose highly in his estimation, the more he saw of her usefidness. " Every one to his craft," said Louis, laughing; "the little squaw has been brought up in the knowledge and practice of such matters from her babyhood ; perhaps if we were to set her to knitting, and spinning, and milking of cows, and house-work, and learning to read, I doubt if she would prove half as quick as Catharine or Mathilde." " I wonder if she knows anything of God or our Saviour," said Hector, thoughtfully. " Who should have taught her? for the Indians are all heathens ; " replied Louis. *' I have heard my dear mother say, the jMissionarics have taken gi-eat pains to teach the Indian children down about Quebec and IMont- real, and that so far from being stupid, they learn very readily," said Catharine. " We must try and make Indiana learn to say licr prayers ; she sits quite still, and seems to take no notice of what we are doing when we kneel down, before we go to bed," observed Hector. " She cannot understand what we s-ay," said Catharine ; for she knows so little of our language » 1 » * ■. r 194 1 1 i ! : t 1' ■•: 1 ; 11 ^ ■ 1 " 1 i, 1 \ ' i ' i^ ■ I i - } ■:^ = :ji f 1 ■ ' \ ■* ■ ! ■; • .!.' !l ■ '^i '4 i THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. yet, that of course slic cannot compreliencl the prayers, which arc in other sort of words tluin what wc use in speaking of hunting, and lisliing, and cooking, and such matters." " Well, when slie knows more of our way of speaking, then we must teach lier ; it is a sad thing for Christian chiUlren to live with an lui- taught pagan," said Louis, who, heing ratlicr bigoted in his creed, felt a sort of uneasiness in his own mind at the poor girl's total want of the rites of his church; but Hector and Catharine re- garded her ignorance witli feelings of compas- sionate interest, and lost no opportunity that offered, of trying to enlighten her darkened mind on the subject of belief in the God who made, and the Lord who saved them. Simply and earnestly they entered into the task as a labour of love, and though for a long time Indiana seemed to pay little attention to what they said, by slow degrees the good seed took root and brought forth fruit worthy of Him whose Spirit poured the beams of spiritual light into her heart : but my young- readers must not imagine these things were the work of a day — the process was slow, and so were the results, but they were good in the end. And Catharine w^as glad when, after many months of patient teaching, the Indian girl asked permission to kneel down with her white friend, i THE CANADIAN CRU.SOES. 195 end tlie i-cIh than [ lisliing, ir way of ift a sad U an nn- ug rather artincss in rant of the tharhie vc- )f compaft- [unity that iened mind ) made, and id earnestly of love, and iiied to pay low degrees forth fruH the heams n\y young gs were the |low, and so in the end. after many In girl asked hitc friend, and pray to the ^Great Spirit and Ills Son in the same words that Christ Jesus gave to his discijdes ; and if tlic full meaning of that lioly prayer, so full of humility and love, and moral justice, was not fully understood hy her whose lijis repeated it, yet even tlie aet of worship and the desire to do that whicli she had been tohl was riglit, was, doubtless, a sacrifice better than tlie pagan rites which that young girl had wit- nessed among her father's people, who, blindly following the natural impulse of man in his depraved nature, regarded deeds of blood and cruelty as among the highest of human virtues, and gloried in those deeds of vengeance at which the Christian mind revolts witli horror. Indiana took upon herself the management of the rice, drying, husking and storing it, the two lads working under her direction. She caused several forked stakes to be cut and sharpened and driven into the ground ; on these were laid four poles, so as to form a frame, over whicli she then stretched the bass-mat, which she secured by means of forked pegs to the frame on the mat ; she then spread out the rice thinly, and lighted a fire beneath, taking- good care not to let tlie flame set fire to the mat, the object being rather to keep up a strong, slow heat, by means of the red embers. She next ■ \ '■ H i • ' I 19C THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. If ,>;■ ' I •; directed the boys to supply her with pine or cedar boughs, which she stuck in close together, so as to enclose the fire within the area of the stakes. This was done to concentrate the heat and cause it to bear upwards with more power ; J:he rice being frequently stirred with a sort of long-handled, flat shovel. After the rice was sufficiently dried, the next thing to be done was separating it from the husk, and this was effected by putting it by small quantities into the iron pot, and with a sort of wooden pestle or beetle, rub- bing it round and round against the sides.* If they had not had the iron pot, a wooden trough must have been substituted in its stead. When the rice was husked, the loose chaff was winnowed from it in a flat basket like a sieve, and it was then put by in coarse birch baskets, roughly sewed with leather-wood bark, or bags made of matting, woven by the little squaw from the cedar-bark. A portion was also parched, which was simply done by putting the rice dry into the iron pot, and setting it on hot embers, stirring the grain till it burst : it was then stored by for use. Rice thus prepared is eaten dry, as a substitute for bread, by the Indians, i * The Indians often make use of a very rude, primitive sort of mortar, by hollowing out a bass-wood stump, and rubbing the rice with a wooden pounder. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 197 pine or together, >a of the the heat ■e power ; a sort of rice was done was as effected lie iron pot, jeetle, ruh- sides* 1^ ,den trough pad. loose chaff ^sket like a coarse hirch ■wood hark, y the little ^on was also putting the ng it on hot : it was then I tred is eaten | e Indians. The lake was now swarming with wild fowl of various kinds ; crowds of ducks were winging their way across it from morning till niglit, floating in vast flocks upon its surface, or rising in noisy groups if an eagle or flsli-hawk a})pearcd sailing with slow, majestic circles above them, then settling down with noisy splash upon the calm water. The shores, too, were covered with these birds, feeding on the fallen acorns which fell ripe and brown with every passing breeze ; the berries of the dogwood also furnished them with food ; but the wild rice seemed the great attraction, and small shell-fish and the larvae of many insects that had been dropped into the waters, there to come to perfection in due season, or to form a provision for myriads of wild fowl that had come from the far north-west to feed upon them, guided by that instinct which has so beautifully been termed by one of our modern poetesses, ''God's gift to the weak." * Mrs. Southey. '{'] rude, primitive f lood stump, and f ii: 198 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. CIIArTEll VIII. " Ob, come and hear what cruel wrongs Befel the Dark Laclyo." — CoLEUlDuE. The Mohawk girl was in liigli spirits at the coming of the wild fowl to tlic lake ; hIic wonld clap her hands and laugh witli almost cliildisli glee as she looked at them darkening tlic lake like clouds resting on its surface. " If I had hut my fatlier's gun, liis good old gun, now I" would Hector say, as he eyed the timorous flocks as they rose and fell upon tlie lake ; " hut these foolish birds are so shy, that they are away before an arrow can reach them." Indiana smiled in her quiet way ; sho was busy filling the canoe with green boughs, which she arranged so as completely to transform the little vessel into the semblance of a floating- island of evergreen ; witiiin this bower she mo- tioned Hector to crouch down, leaving a small space for the free use of his bow, while concealed at the prow she gently and noiselessly paddled the canoe from the shore among the rice-beds, letting it remain stationary or merely rocking to and fro with the undulatory motion of the waters. fj N . V itfl at the r the lake P I o-ood old e eyed the [ upon the o siiy, tliat ach them." shi was hs, which nsform the a floating er she nio- T a small concealed addled the eds, letting ing to and >vaters. w: I. Kit.r.iNn wir.n vnwi,. I 1 t 'ii' ;i^ € IH 1 1' 1 4* 1 i s THE CANADIAN CliUSOES. 109 The unsuspecting birds, deceived into full security, eagerly pursued their pastime or their prey, and it was no difficult matter for the hidden archer to hit many a black duck or teal or whistlewing, as it floated securely on the placid water, or rose to shift its place a few yards up or down the stream. Soon the lake around was strewed with the feathered game, which Wolfe, cheered on by Lewis, who was stationed on the shore, brought to land. Indiana told Hector that this was the season when the Indians made great gatherings on the lake for duck-shooting, which they pursued much after the same fashion as that which has been described, only Instead of one, a dozen or more canoes would be thus disguised with boughs, with others stationed at different parts of the lake, or under the shelter of the island, to collect the birds. This sport was generally finished by a great feast. The Indians offered the first of the birds as an oblation to the Great Spirit, as a grateful acknowledgment of his bounty in having allowed them to gather food thus plentifully for their families ; sometimes distant tribes with whom they were on terms of friendship were invited to share the sport and partake of i:hc spoils. ■ 1 I . I it t THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Indiana could not understand why Hector did not follow the custom of her Indian fathers, and offer the first duck or the best fish to pro- pitiate the Great Spirit. Hector told lier that the God he worshipped desired no sacrifice ; that his holy Son, when he came down from heaven and gave himself as a sacrifice for the sins of the world, had satisfied his Father, the Great Spirit, an hundred-fold. They feasted now continually upon the water- fowl, and Catharine learned from Indiana how to skin them, and so preserve the feathers for making tippets, and bonnets, and ornamental trimmings, which are not only warm, but liglit and very becoming. They split open any of the birds that they did not require for present con- sumption, and these they dried for winter store, smoking some after the manner that the Sliet- landers and Orkney people smoke the -j.jlan geese: their shanty displayed an ab'.i;:''int store of provisions, fish, flesh, and fowl, bc-t^^'os baskets of wild rice, and bags of dried fruit. One day Indiana came in from the brow of the hill, and told the boys that the lake eastward was covered with canoes ; she showed, by hold- ing up her two hands and then three fingers, that she had counted thirteen. The tribes had met for the annual duck -feast, and for the rice harvest. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 201 J Hector 11 fathers, h to pro- her that ifice; that ,m heaven iic sins of the Great the water- diana how ea+hers for ornamental I, Uit light any of the resent con- inter store, t the Sliet- tlie -;.jlan at' : *'xnt (wl, "becii^'-s :1 fruit, fie trow of ie eastward 1, by hold- ingers, that 23 had met kce harvest. She advised tliem to put out the fire, so that no smoke might be seen to attract them ; but said they would not leave the lake for hunting over the plains just then, as the camp was lower down on the point * east of the mouth of a big river, which she called " Otonabee." Hector asked Indiana if she would go away and leave them, in the event of meeting with any of her own tribe. The girl cast her eyes on the earth in silence ; a dark cloud seemed to gather over her face. " If they should prove to be any of your father's people, or a friendly tribe, would you go away with them ?" he again repeated, to which she solemnly replied, " Indiana has no father, no tribe, no people ; no blood of her father's warms the heart of any man, woman or child, saving myself alone ; but Indiana is a brave, and the daugliter of a brave, and will not shrink from danger : her heart is warm ; red blood flows warm here," and slie laid her hand on her heart. Then lifting up her hand, she said with slow but impassioned • This point, commonly known as Anderson's Point, now the seat of the Indian village, used in former times to be a great place of rendezvous for the Indians, and was the site of a murderous carnage or massacre that took place about eighty years ago ; the war-weapons and bones of the Indians are often turned up with the plough at this day. lit 202 THE CANADIAN' CRUSOES. ! > ' I I ! I' H < I I t i tone, " They left not 0!'"e drop of living blood to flow in any veins but tliese," and her eyes were raised, and her arms stretched upwards towards heaven, as though calling down vengeance on tlie murderers of her father's house. " My father was a Mohawk, the son of a great chief, who owned these hunting-grounds fixr as your eye can see to tlie rising and setting sun, along the big waters of the big lakes ; but the Ojebwas, a portion of the Cliippewa nation, by treachery cut off my father's people by hundreds in cold blood, when they were defenceless and at rest. It was a bloody day and a bloody deed." Instead of hiding herself, as Hector and Louis strongly advised the yoimg Mohawk to do, she preferred remaining as a scout, she said, under the cover of the bushes on the edge of the steep that overlooked the lake, to watch their move- ments. She told Hector to be under no appre- hension if the Indians came to the hut ; not to attempt to conceal themselves, but offer them food to eat and water to drink. " If they come to the house and find you away, they will take your stores and burn your roof, suspecting that you are afraid to meet them openly ; but they will not harm you if you meet them with open hand and fearless brow : if they eat of your bread, OS I THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 203 3lood to ^es were towards ;ance on ion of a -grounds id setting r, but the lation, by- hundreds jeless and a bloody j and Louis to do, she laid, under tlie steep :ieir move- no appre- liut ; not to loffer tliem tliey come ly will take [ecting that ; but they with open your bread, they will not harm you ; me they would kill by a cruel death — the war-knife is in their heart against the daughter of the hrovey The boys thought Indiana's advice good, and they felt no fear for themselves, only for Ca- tharine, whom they counselled to remain in the shanty with Wolfe. The Indians seemed intent only on the sport which they had come to enjoy, seeming in high glee, and as far as they could see quite peaceably disposed ; every night they returned to the camp on the north side, and the boys could see their fires gleaming among the trees on the opposite shore, and now and then in the stillness of the evening their wild shouts of revelry would come faintly to their ears, borne by the breeze over the waters of the lake. The allusion that Indiana had made to her own history, though conveyed in broken and hardly intelligible language, had awakened feel- ings of deep interest for her in the breasts of her faithful friends. Many months after this she related to her wondering auditors the fearful story of the massacre of her kindred , and which I may as well relate, as I have raised the curi- osity of my youthful readers, though to do so I must render it in my own language, as the broken half-formed sentences in which its facts n f ^ 1 I S '4 f i ). I 204 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. were conveyed to tlie ears of my Canadian Crusoes would "be imintelligiLle to my young friends.* There had been for some time a jealous feel- ing existin;?; between the chiefs of two principal tribes of the Ojebwas and the Mohawks, which like a smothered fire had burnt in the heart of each, without having burst into a decided blaze — for each strove to compass his ends and obtain the advantage over the other by covert means. The tribe of the Mohawks of which I now speak, claimed the southern shores of the Rice Lake for their hunting grounds, and certain islands and parts of the lake for fishing, while that of the Ojebwas considered themselves masters of the northern shores and certain rights of water beside. Possibly it was about these rights that the quarrel originated, but if so, it was not openly avowed between the " Black Snake," (that was the totem borne by the Mo- hawk chief,) and the " Bald Eagle " (the totem of the Ojebwa). These chiefs had each a son, and the Bald Eagle had also a daughter of great and rare * The facts of this narrative were gathered from the lips of the eldest son of a Rice Lake chief. I have preferred giving it in the present form, rather than as the story of the Indian girl. Simple as it is, it is matter of history. b THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 205 Janadiau y young [ous feel- principal ks, wliicli p, heart of ided l)lazc and obtain ert means. Lch I now ,f tlic nice ,nd certain king, while themselves rtain rights ihout these lut if so, it :he "Black hy the Mo- I' (the totem Jid the Bald lat and rare from the lips have preferred Ithe story of the listory. beauty, called by her people, " The Beam of the Morning;" she was the admiration of Mohawks as Avell as Ojebwas, and many of the young men of both tlie tribes had sought her hand, but hitherto in vain. Among her numerous suitors, the son of the Black Snake seemed to be the most enamoured of her beauty; and it vras probably with some intention of winning the favour of the young Ojebwa squaw for his son, that the Black Snake accepted the fonnal invitation of the Bald Eagle to come to his hunting grounds during the rice harvest, and shoot deer and ducks on the lake, and to ratify a truce which had been for some time set on foot between them ; but while outwardly professing friendship and a desire for peace, inwardly the fire of hatred burned fiercely in the breast of the Black Snake against the Ojebwa chief and his only son, a young man of great promise, renowned among his tribe as a great hunter and warrior, but who had once offended the Mohawk chief by declining a matrimonial alliance with one of the daughters of a chief of inferior rank, who was closely connected to him by marriage. This affront rankled in the heart of the Black Snake, though outwardly he af- fected to have forgiven and forgotten the slight that had been put upon his relative. 1^ \ U 20G THE CANADIAN CRU80ES. The hunting liad been ciuTiecl on for some clays very amicably, when one tlay tlie Bald Eagle was requested, with all due attention to Indian etiquette, to go to the wigwam of the Black Snake. On entering the lodge, he per- ceived the Mohawk strangely disordered ; he rose from his mat, on which he had been sleeping, with a countenance fearfully distorted, his eyes glarhig hideously, his whole frame convulsed, and writhing as in fearful bodily anguish, and casting himself upon the ground, he rolled and grovelled on the earth, uttering frightful yells and groans. The Bald Eagle was moved at the distressing state m which he found his guest, and asked the cause of his disorder, but this the other refused to tell. After some hours the fit appeared to subside, but the chief remained moody and silent. The following day the same scene was repeated, and on the third, when the fit seemed to have increased in bodily agony, with great apparent reluctance, wrung seemingly from him by the importunity of his host, he consented to reveal the cause, which was, that the Bad Spirit had told him tliat these bodily tortures could not cease till the only son of his friend, the Ojebwa chief, had been sacrificed to appease his anger — neither could peace long continue between the li' THE CANADIAN CliUSOES. 207 for some the Bald :cution to im of tlic ;c, lie per- Icved ; lie u sleeping, 1, lii^ eyes convulsed, iguisli, and ; rolled and ;litfLd yells distressing Ll asked the ;lier refused ippeared to r and silent. as repeated, led to have at apparent lim hy the d to reveal Spirit had could not the Ojehwa his anger — etween the two nations until tliis deed had been done ; and not only must the chiefs son he slain, hut lie must he pierced hy his own fatlier's hand, and Jiis flesh sewed up at a feast at which tlie father must preside. The Black Snake affected the utmost horror and aversion at so hloody and unnatural a deed being committed to save lils life and the liappiness of his tribe, but tlic peace was to be ratified for ever if the sacrifice was made, — if not, war to tlie knife was to be ever between the Mohawks and Ojebwas. The Bald Eagle seeing that his treacherous guest would make this an occasion of renewing a deadly warfare, for which possibly lie was not at the time well prepared, assumed a stoical calmness, and replied, " Be it so ; great is the power of the Bad Spirit to cause evil to the tribes of the chiefs that rebel against liis will. My son shall be sacrificed by my hand, that the evil one may be appeased, and that the Black Snake's body may have ease, and his people rest beside the fires of their lodges in peace." " The Bald Eagle has spoken like a chief with a large heart," w^as the specious response of the wily Mohaw^k ; " moreover, the Good Spirit also appeared, and said, ' Let the Black Snake's son and the Bald Eagle's daughter I ;■ THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. become man and wife, that peace may be found to dwell among the lodges, and the war-hatchet be buried for ever.' " " The Beam of the Morning shall become the wife of the Young Pine," was the courteous answer; but stern revenge lay deep hidden beneath the unmoved brow and passionless lip. The fatal day arrived ; the Bald Eagle, with unflinching hand and eye that dropped no human tear of sorrow for the son of his love, plunged the weapon into his heart with Spartan- like firmness. The fearful feast of human flesh was prepared, and that old chief, pale but un- mo\cd, presided over the ceremonies. The war-dance was danced round the sacrifice, and all went off well, as if no such fearful rite had been enacted : but a fearful retribution was at hand. The Young Pine sought the tent of the Bald Eagle's daughter that evening, and was received with all due deference, as a son of so great a chief as the Black Snake merited; he was regarded now as a successful suitor, and intoxicated with the beauty of the Beam of the Morning, pressed her to allow i. "; marriage to take place in a few days. The bride consented, and a day was named for the wedding feast to be celebrated, and that due honour might be given to so great an event, invitations were sent I -li ! - ! '^^ THE CANADIAN CUriSOKB. 209 out to tlic princi])al faniillcs of tlic ]\Ioliawk tribe, and those amounted to several hundreds of souls, while the young Ojel)wa hunters were despatched up tlic river and to different parts of the country, avowedly to collect venison, heaver, and other delicacies to regale their guests, but in reality to summon by means of trusty scouts a large war party from the small lakes, to he in readiness to take part in the deadly revenge that was preparing for their enemies. JMeantime the squaws pitched the nuptial tent, and prepared the bridal ornaments. A large wigwam capable of containing all the expected guests was then constructed, adorned with the thick branches of evergi'cens so artfully contrived f 1 rite had ! ^^ ^^ ^g capable of concealing the armed Ojebwas ,. ^yg^g at 1 ^^^^ their allies, wdio in due time were introduced beneath this leafy screen, armed with the mur- derous tomahawk cind scalping-knife with wdiich to spring upon their defenceless and unsuspect- ing guests. According to the etiquette always observed upon such occasions, all deadly w^eapons ■Ream of the i were left outside the tent. The bridegroom I* marriage to | ^^^^ heen conducted with songs and dancing to consented, 1 ^^^^ tent of the bride. The guests, to the number be found ar-hatchet )ecoine the courteous ep hidden onless lip. Eagle, with Iropped no of his love, ith Spartan- tiuman flesh ,ale but un- nies. Tne acrifice, and le tent of the tg, and was a son of so merited; he ll suitor, and Ling feast to )ur might be nis were sent of several hundred naked and painted warriors, were assembled. The feast was declared to be ready J a great iron pot or kettle occupied the p 1^1 I' TIIC CANADIAN CRU80ES. j I .(:■ centre of tlic tent. According to tlie custom of the Indians, tlic fatlier of the bridegroom was invited to lift the most important disli from the pot, whilst the warriors commenced their war- dance around him. This dish was usually a Lear's head, which was fastened to a string left for the purpose of raising it from the pot. " Let the Black Snake, the great chief of the Mohawks, draw up the head and set it on the table, that his people may eat and make merry, and that his wise heart may 1 gladj" were the scornful words of the Bald I ^ . A yell of horror burst from the lips of the hon'or-stricken father, as he lifted to view the fresh and gory head of his only son, the hajjp)/ bridegroom of the lovely daughter of the Ojebwa chief. " Ha !" shouted the Bald Eagle, " is the great chief of the Mohawks a squaw, that his blood grows white and his heart trembles at the sight of his son, the bridegi'oom of the Beam of the Morning? The Bald Eagle gave neither sigh nor groan when he plunged the knife into the heart of his child. Come, brother, take the knife ; taste the flesh and drink the blood of thy I son: the Bald Eagle shrank not when you bad* him partake ot the feast that was prepared fronri his young warrior's body." lai (in ,ca !tJi THE CANADIAN CUUSOKS. 211 custom of coom ^vari , from tlvc tliciv war- usually a , stYing l^ft pot. cliief of tlic li it on tlic xinVc mcvvy, i." ^vcrc tlie The wretcliecl fatlier claslictl liinisclf u\um llic eartli, while his cries and h()\vliiigs rent the air ; tliosc cries were answered by the wiir-wlniop of tlie ambushed Ojebwas, as tliey sprang to tlieir feet, and with deafening yells attacked the guests, who, panic-stricken, naked and defence- less, fell an easy prey to their infuriated enemies. Not one living foe escaped to tell the tale of that fearfid marriage feast. A second Judith liad the Indian girl proved. It was her jilighted , hand that had severed the head of her unsus- \ pecting bridegroom to complete the fearful ven- geance that had been devised in return for the • merciless and horrible murder of her brother. Nor was the sacrilicc yet finished, for with j fearful cries the Indians seized upon the canoes 1 of their enemies, and with the utmost speed, . .-1^ p-reat > urged by unsatisfied revenge, hurried down the , n • \)\ood j lake to an island where the women and children t tlie siglit; j and such of the aged or young men as were not -o „^ of tlie (included among the wedding guests, were en- 'tlier si""!! .camped in unsuspecting security. Panic-stricken, , -fe into tlic jthe Mohawks offered no resistance, but fell , take the (like sheep appointed for the slaughter: the "blood of tliylOjebwas slew there the grey-head with the ^1 n vou badtinfant of days. But while the youths and old enared frouT iien tamely yielded to their enemies, there was )ne, whose spirit roused to fury by tlie murder e lips of tbc to view tliC n, tbc hajipjj f tbe Ojebwa i I t ', I'l ; i ] \ li 'rniim^wrmmmmmm 91 ^ THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. i, 1 ! (1 i of licr fatlier, armed licrself with the war chih and knife, and bohlly withstood the successful warriors. At the door of the tent of the shirGflitercd chief tlie Amazon defended her children: while tlie war lightning kindled in her dark eye, she called aloud in scornful tones to her people to hide themselves in the tents of their women, who alone were braves, and would fight their battles. Fiercely she taunted the men, but tliey slirank from the unequal contest, and she alone was found to deal the death-blow upon the foe, till overpowered with numbers, and pierced with frightful wounds, she fell singing her own death-song and raising the wail for the dead who lay around her. Niglit closed in, but the work of blood still continued, till not a victim was found, and again they went forth on their exterminating work. Lower down they found another encampment, and there also they slew all the inhabitants of the lodges ; they then returned back to the island, to gather togetlier their dead and collect the spoils of their tents. They were weary with the fatigue of the slaughter of that fearful day ; they were tired of blood-shedding ; the retribution had satisfied even tlieir love of blood: and when they found, on returning to the spot where the heroine had stood at bay, one young solitary I til ta n tii THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 213 accessfiil ; of the ided her mdled in iful tones lc tents of [ind would amted the Lai contest, death-blow 1 uumhers, s, she fell raising the 1 continued, again they ,rk. I-ower it, and there the lodges ; ,d, to gather iie spoils of the fatigue ; they were [ibution had and when! )t where the I )ung solitary female sitting beside the corpse of that dauntless woman, her motlier, they led her away, and did all that their savage nature could suggest to soften her anguish and dry her tears. They brought her to the tents of their women, and clothed and fed her, and bade her be comforted ; but her young heart burned within her, and she refused consolation. She could not forget the wrongs of her people : she was the only livinc; creature left of the Mohawks on that island. The young girl was Indiana, the same whom Hector Maxwell had found, wounded and bound, to perish with hunger and thirst on Bare-hill. Brooding with revenge in her heart, the young girl cold them that she had stolen unpercci\ed into the tent of the Bald Eagle, and aimed a knife at his throat, but the fatal blow was arrested by one of the young men, who had watched her enter the old chiefs tint. A council was called, and she was taken to Bare- hill, bound, and left in the sad state already described. It was with feelings of horror and terror that the Christian children listened to this fearful tale, and Indiana read in their averted eyes and ])ale faces the feelings with which the recital of the tale of blood had insrnrcd them. And then i-\ n THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. it was tliat as tliey sat beneath the shade of the trees, in the soft misty light of an Indian summer moon, that Catharine, with simple earnestness, taught her young disciple those heavenly lessons of mercy and forgiveness which her Redeemer had set forth by his life, his doctrines, and his death. And she told her, that if she woidd see that Sa\'iour's face in Heaven, and dwell with him in joy and peace for ever, she must learn to pray for those dreadful men who had made her fatherless and motherless, and her home a desolation ; that the fire of revenge must be quenched within her heart, and the spirit of love alone find place within it, or she could not become the child of God and an inheritor of the kingdom of Heaven. How hard were these conditions to the young heathen, — how contrary to her nature, to all that she had been taught in the tents of her fathers, where revenge was virtue, and to take the scalp of an enemy a glorious thing ! Yet when she contrasted the gentle, kind, and dovelike characters of her Christian friends, with the fierce bloody people of her tribe and of her Ojebwa enemies, she could not but own they were more worthy of love and admiration : had they not found her a ])oor miserable trembling THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. 215 hade of i Indian simple ,le those rgiveness y liis life, [ see tliat Lth liim in m to pvay made her ■ home a Q must he ,e spirit of could not •itor of the were these ,w contrary ►een taught [evenge was enemy a 3, kind, and [riends, with and of her own they pation: had trembling captive, unbound her, fed and cherislied lier, pouring the balm of consolation into her wounded heart, and leading her in bands of tenderest love to forsake those wild and fearful passions that warred in lier soul, and bringing her to the feet of the Saviour, to become his meek and holy child, a lamb of his " extended fold?"* * The Indian who related this narrative to me was a son of a Rice Lake chief, Mosang Poudash by name, who vouched for its truth as an historic fact remembered by his father, whose grandsire had been one of the actors in the massacre. Mosang Poudash promised to write down the legend, and did so in part, but made such confusion between his imperfect English and Indian language, that the MS. was unavailable for copying. ' fl J •!• ^^ i ,'iV I '• r i . H J! 'i< I 'I ' 1 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. CHAPTER IX. " The horn of the huntei' is heard on the hill." Jfitsh Sony. While the Indians were actively pursuing tlieir sports on tlie lake, shooting wild fowl, and hunting and fishing hy torch-light, so exciting was the amusement of watching them, that the two lads. Hector and Louis, quite forgot all sense of danger, in the enjoyment of lying or sitting on the brow of the mount near the great ravine, and looking at their proceedings. Once or twice the lads were near betraying themselves to the Indians, by raising a shout of delight, at some skilful manoeuvre that excited their unqualified admiration and applause. At night, when the canoes had all retired to the camp on the north shore, and all fear of detection had ceased for the time, they lighted up their shanty fire, and cooked a good supper, and also prepared sufficiency of food for the following- day. The Indians remained for a fortnight ; at the end of that time Indiana, who was a Avatcliful spy on their movements, told Hector and Louis that the camp was broken up, and THE CAN.\DIAN CRUSOES. 217 bill." Jmh Song. pursuing fowl, ai^l ) exciting a, tliat tlie forgot all ,f lying or ; near tlic coceedings. betraying a sliout of lat excited ause. retired to all foar of liglited up supper, and e following •tniglit; at vho was a ;old Hector ten up, that the Indians had gone up the river, and would not return again for some weeks. The departure of the Indians was a matter of great rejoicing to Catharine, whose dread of these savages had greatly increased since she had been made acquainted with the fearful deeds ? which Indiana had described ; and what reliance could she feel in people who regarded deeds of blood and vengeance as acts of virtuous lieroism ? I Once, and only once during their stay, tlic ' Indians had passed within a short distance of their dwelling ; but they wTre in full cliase of j| a bear, which had been seen crossing the deep ravine near Mount Ararat, and they had been too intent upon their game to notice the shanty, or had taken it for the slielter of some trapper if it had been seen, for they nev" turned out of their path, and Catharine, who was alone at the time, drawing water from the spring, was so completely concealed by the high bank above her, that she had quite escaped their notice. Fortunately, Indiana gave the two boys a signal to conceal themselves when she saw them enter the ravine ; and effectually hidden among the thick grey mossy trunks of the cedars at the lake shore, they remained secure from moles- and j tation, while the Indian girl dropped noise- ' '% iJ;*- Ih ;ft^ '•I 218 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. lessly down among the tangled thicket of wild vines and brushwood, which she drew cautiously over her, and closed her eyes, lesi, as she naively remarked, their glitter should he seen and betray her to her enemies. It was a moment of mtense anxiety to our poor wanderers, whose terrors were more excited on behalf of the young Mohawk than for them- selves, and ihey congratulated her on her escape with affectionate warmth. " Are my wiiite brothers afraid to die?" was the young squaw's half-scornful reply. " Indiana is the daughter of a brave ; she fears not to die?" The latter end of September, and the first week in October, had been stormy and even cold. The rainy season, however, was now over ; the nights were often illuminated by the Aurora borealis, which might be seen forming an arch of soft and lovely brightness over the lake, to the north and north-eastern portions of the horizon, or shooting upwards, in ever- varying shafts of greenish light, now hiding, now re- vealing the stars, which shone with softened radiance through the silvery veil that dimmed their beauty. Sometimes for many nights together the same appearance might be seen, and was usually the forerunner of frosty THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 219 :et of wild cautiously j ilie naively i seen and ety to our tore excited Lii for tliem- [1 lier escape i )die?" was y. "Indiana fears not to md the first y and even ;r, was now tiated l3y tlie ^n forming an )ver tlie lake, ftions of the I ever-varying ling, uow re- nth softened |that dimmed lany nights Ight he seen, ir of frosty weather, though occasionally it was the pre- cursor of cold winds, and hcavv rains. The Indian girl regarded it with superstitious feelings, hut whether as an omen for good or ill, she would not tell. On all matters connected with lier religions notions she was sliy and reserved, though occasionally she unconsciously revealed them. Thus the warnings of death or mis- fortunes were revealed to her hy certain ominous sounds in the woods, the appearance of strange hirds or animals, or the moanings of others. The screeching of the owl, the hlcating of the doe, or harking of the fox, were evil auguries, while the flight of the eagle and the croaking of the raven were omens of good. She put faith in dreams, and would foretel good or evil fortune from them ; she could read th e mo. ning and even- ing clouds, and knew from various appearances of the sky, or the coming or departing of certain hirds or insects, changes in the atmosphere. Her ear was quick in distinguishing the changes in the voices of the hirds or animals ; she knew the times of their coming and going, and her eye was quick to see as her ear to detect sounds. Her voice was soft, and low, and plaintive, and she de^'ghted in imitating the little hallads or hymns that Catharine sung ; though she knew nothing of their meaning, she would catch the tunes, and %: .')' 'i Ii 1 ^— I- 1 I I ■;i ' III I fl If iii 220 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Bing tlic song with Catliarinc, touching the liearts of her delighted auditors by the melody and pathos of her voice. The season called Indian summer had now arrived: the air was soft and mild, almost oppressively warm ; the sun looked red as though seen through the smoke clouds of a populous city. A soft ulue haze hung on the "bosom of the glassy lake, which reflected on its waveless surface every passing shadow, and the gorgeous tints of its changing woods on sliore and island. Sometimes tlic stillness of the air was relieved by ? soft sighing wind, which rustled the dying fc . i as it swept by. The Indian summer is the harvest of the Indian tribes. It is during this season that they hunt and shoot the wild fowl that come in their annual flights to visit the waters of the American lakes and rivers ; it is then that they gather in their rice, and prepare their winter stores of meat, and fish, and furs. The Indian girl knew the season they would resort to certain hunting grounds. They were constant, and altered not their customs ; as it was with their fathers, so it was with them. Louis had heard so much of the Otonabee river from Indiana, that he was impatient to go and explore the entrance, and the shores of the lake {.I THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 221 clilng tlio iic includy jv had now ild, almost d art tlioiigU a populous ic iosoiu of its waveless Uc gorgeous 5 and island, was relieved cd the dying Irvest of the .son that they lat come in aters of the icn that they their winter The Indian lort to certain ionstant, and I as with their j )tonal)ee river | iut to go and js of the hake on that side, which hitherto they had not ventured to do for fear of being surprised by the Indians. " Some line day," said Louis, "we will go out in the canoe, explore tlie distant islands, and go up the river a little way." Hector advised visiting all the islands by turns, beginning at the little islet which looks in the distance like a boat in full sail ; it is level with the water, and has only three or fom* trees upon it. The name they had given to it was "Ship Island." The Indians have some name for it which I have forgotten; but it means, I have been told, "Witch Island." Hector's plan met with general approbation, and they resolved to take provisions with them for several days, and visit the islands and go up the river, passing trc night nnder the shelter of the thick trees on the shore wherever they found a pleasant halting-place. The weather was mild and warm, the lake was as clear and calm as a mirror, and in joyous mood our little party embarked and paddled up the lake, first to Ship Islanr\ but this did not detain them many minutes ; they then went to Grape Island, which they so named from the abundance of wild vines, now rich with purple clusters of the ripe grapes, — tart, but still not to be despised by our young adventurers ; and they brought away a large birch basket heaped up ■I I 222 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. with the fruit. " All, if wc had but a good cake of maple sugar, now, to preserve our grapes with, and make such grape jelly as my mother makes!" said Louis. " If we find out a sugar-bush we will manage to make plenty of sugar," said Catharine ; " there are maples not two hundred yards from the shanty, near the side of the steep bank to the east. jTou remember the pleasant spot which we named the Happy Valley,* where the bright creek runs, dancing along so merrily, below the pine-ridge?" " Oh, yes, the same that winds along near the foot of Bare-hill, where the water-cresses gi-ow." " Yes, where I gathered the milk-weed the other day." " What a beautiful pasture-field that will make, when it is cleared !" said Hector, thought- fully. " Hector is always planning about fields, and clearing great farms," said Louis, laughing. " We shall see Hec a great man one of these days ; I think he has in his own mind brushed, and burned, and logged up all the fine flats and :8 c; V( Ise tl to 1 |si- tr hii * A lovely valley to the east of Mount Ararat, now be- i longing to a worthy and industrious family of the name of j Brown. I wish Hector could see it as it now is, — aculti-] vated fertile farm. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 223 vill manage inc ; " tliere s from the bank to the spot wliicli re y, Lelow tlie tlie 11 1 cake I table-land on tlie plains before now, ay, and . witli 1 ^I'opped it all with wheat, and peas, and Indian " We will have a clearing and a nice field of corn next year, if we live," replied Hector; " that corn that we found in the canoe will he a treasure." " Yes, and the corn-cob you got on Bare-liill," said Catherine. " How lucky we have been ! ^iV brisht ; ^^ Sih'dW be so happy when we see oui* little field of corn flourishing round tlie shanty ! It Avas a good thing, Ilec, that you went to the Indian camp that day, though both Louis and I were very miserable while you were absent ; but you see, God must have directed you, that the life of this poor girl might be saved, to be a comfort 1 , 1 i. ^{\\ \io us. Everything has prospered well with us 1 ,1 Qvio-i^t- '^^i'^ce she came to us. Perhaps it is because we ' try to make a Christian of her, and so God n ^^y^ and Wesses all our endeavours." 1 ffhinii;. "We are told," said Hector, "that there is ' f these i^y '^^^^^ the angels of God over one sinner that . , -. .v.g^(jcl V^pentcth ; doubtless, it is a joyful thing when fl fl ts and fi^^ heathen that knew not the name of God are taught to glorify his holy name." Ararat now be- 1 Indiana, while exploring, had captured a of the name of porcupine ; she declared that she should have now is,— a cu i- ^^Qi^^y of quiUs foi edging baskets and mocassins ; long near presses gi'ow. ilk-weed the ■l I I I 224 THE CANADIAN CUUSOES. Lesitlc, slic s.M(l, tlic meat was wliitc and pjoorl to cat. Hector looked with a suspieiou.s eye upon tlie little animal, doubting the propriety of eating its flesh, though he had learned to eat munk rats, and consider them good meat, baked in Louis's Indian oven, or roasted on a forked stick, before the tire. The Indian porcupine is a small animal, not a very great deal larger than the common British hedgehog ; the quills, how- ever, are longer and stronger, and varied with alternate clouded marks of pure white and dark brownish grej , they arc minutely barbed, so that if one enters the flesh it is with difficulty extracted, but will work through of itself in an opposite direction, and can then be easily pulled out. D(.. s and cattle often sufler gi*eat incon- venience from getting their muzzles filled with the quills of the porcupine, the former when worrying the poor little animal, and the latter by accidentally meeting a dead one among the her- bage; great inflammation will sometimes attend the extraction. Indians often lose valuable hounds from this cause. Beside porcupines, Indiana told her companions, there were some fine butter-nut- trees on the island, and they could collect a bag full in a very short time. This was good news, for the butter-nut is sweet and pleasant, almost equal to the walnut, of which it is a species. THE CANADIAN CllUSOES. 225 id good to eye upon >priety of led to cat cat, baked I a forked >rcupinc is avger tlian uilli^, liow- aried with c and dark "barbed, so h difficulty itself in an isily pulled I cat incon- iillcd with nncr when le latter by ng the her- imes attend ible hounds ndiana told 3uttcr-nut- )llect a bag good news, ant, almost species. The day was passed pleasantly cnougli iu collecting nuts and grapes ; but as this ishmd did not ailbrd any good cleared spot for passing tlie night, and, moreover, was tenanted by black snakes, several of which made their a])- pearancc among the stones near the edge of tlic water, they agreed by conmion council to go to Long Island, where Indiana said there was an old log-house, the walls of which were still standing, and where there was dry moss in plenty, which would make them a comfortable bed for the night. This old log-house she said liad been built, she heard the Indians say, by a French Canadian trapper, who used to visit the hike some years ago ; he wa^ on friendly terms with the chiefs, who allowed him many privileges, and he bought their furs, and took them down the lake, through the river Trent, to some station-house on the great lake. They found they should have time enough to land and deposit their nuts and grapes and paddle to Long Island before sunset. Upon the western part of this fine island they had several times landed and passed some hours, exploring its shores; but Indiana told them, to reach the old log-house they must I enter the low swampy bay to the cast, at an j opening which she called Indian Cove. To do tins required some skill in the management of the .:i ^\ n f Q 226 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I ! r\ if ii. h !■ I' « I! Ji ' canoe, vvliicli was rather over-loaded for so liglit a vessel ; and the trees grew so close and thick that they had some difficulty in pushing their way through them without injuring its frail sides. These trees or bushes were chiefly black elder, high-bush cranberries, dogwood, willows, and, as they proceeded further, and tlierc was ground of a more solid nature, cedar, poplar, swamp oak, and soft maple, with silver birch and wild cherries. Long strings of silvery-grey tree-moss hung dangling over their heads, the bark and roots of the birch and cedars were covered with a luxuriant growth of green moss, but there was a dampness and closeness in this place that made it far from wholesome, and the little band of voyagers were not very sorry when the water became too shallow to admit of the canoe making its way through the swampy channel, and they landed on the banks of a small circular pond, as round as a ring, and nearly surrounded by tall trees, hoary with mosr! and lichens ; large water-lilies floated on the surface of this miniature lake, and tlic brilliant led berries of the high-bush cranberry, and tlic purnle clusters of grapes, festooned the trees. " A famous breeding place this must be for ducks,"observed Louis. " And for flowers," said Catharine, " and for THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 227 1 tliick g their ts frail iy "black willows, tcrc was , poplar, er hircli ery-grey eads, the ars were sen moss, ss in this , and the 3rry when nit of the swampy mks of a ring, and with mos?; ;d on the le brilliant y, and the c trees. lUst be for • " and fov grapes and cranberries. There is always some beauty or some usefulness to be found, however lonely the spot." " A fine place for musk-rats, and minks, and lislies," said Hector, looking round. " The old trapper knew what he was about -when he made liis lodge near this pond. And there, sure enough, is the log-hut, and not so bad a one cither," and scrambling up the bank he entered the deserted little tenement, well pleased to find it in tolerable repair. Tlicre were the ashes on tlie stone hearth, just as it had been left years back by the old trapper ; some rough hewn shelves, a rude bedstead of cedar poles still occupied a corner of the little dwelling ; heaps of old dry moss and grass lay upon the ground ; and the little Sf|uaw pointed with one of her silent laughs to a collection of broken egg-shells, where some wild duck had sat and hatched her downy brood among flic soft materials which slie had found and aj>];ropriated to her own purpose. The only tilings pertaining to the former possessor of th^- log-hut were an old, rusty, battered tin pannikin, now, alas ! unfit for holding water ; a bit of a brok<'n earthen wliisky jar; a rusty nail, wdiich Louis pounced upon, and pocketed, or rather pouched, — for he had substituted a fine pouch of deer-skin for his '> U 1 22S THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. i' II ' h"'n I, i I; worn-out pocket ; and a fishing-line of good stout cord, which was wound on a splinter of red redar, and carefully stuck between one of the rafters and the roof of the shanty. A rusty but efficient hook was attached to the line, and Louis, who was the finder, was quite overjoyed at his good fortune in making so valuable an addition to his fishing-tackle. Hector got only an odd worn-out mocassin, which he chucked into the little pond in disdain ; while Catharine declared she would keep the old tin pot as a relic, and carefully deposited it in the canoe. As they made their way into the interior of the island, they found that there were a great many fine sugar maples which had been tapped by some one, as the boys thought, by the old trapper; but Indiana, on examining the incisions in the trees, and the remnants of birch-bark vessels that lay mouldering on the earth below them, declared them to have been the work of her own people ; and long and sadly did the young girl look upon these simple memorials of a race of ^\hom she was the last living I remnant. The young girl stood clioly mood, a solitary, isolated kindred upon to lier ; a stranger in the land of her fathers, asso- ciating witii those whose ways were not her ways. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 229 of good splinter of [in one of A rusty i Vine, and overjoyed 'aluable an 31- got only le eliucked 5 Catharine in pot as a e canoe. 1 interior of ^ere a great been tapped ^ by the old the incisions [ bircli-)3ark eartli below the work of idly did the e memorials last living ere in melan- in g, with no .e life dear to fathers, asso- not her ways, nor their thouorhts her thoughts : whosclanGriiao-c was scarcely known to her, whose God was not the God of her fathers. Yet the dark eyes of the Indian ghd were not dimmed with tears as she thought of these things ; she had learned of her people to suffer, and be still. Silent and patient she stood, with her melan- choly gaze bent on the earth, when slie felt the gentle hand of Catharine laid upon her arm, and then kindly and lovingly passed round her neck, as she whispered, — " Indiana, I will be to you as a sister, and will love you and cherish you, because you arc an orphan girl, and alone in the world ; but God loves you, and will make you happy. He is a Father to the fatherless, and the Friend of the destitutt , and to them that have no helper.'' The words of nidness and love need no inter- pretation ; no book-learning is necessary to make them understood. The vouno', the old, the deaf, the dumb, the blind, can read this universal language; its very silence is often more eloquent than words — the gentle pressure of the hand, the half-echoed sigh, the look of sympathy will pene- trate to the very h(^art, and unlock its hidden stores of human tenderness and l^:>ve. The rock is smitten and the waters gusii forth, a bright and living stream . to refresh and fertilize the thirsty soul. !1;, - i 230 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I.; : I i I h-t' The lieart of the poor mourner was touchecV; she bowed down her head upon the hand that held her so kindly in its sisterly grasp, and wept soft sweet human tears full of grateful love, while she whispered, in her own low plaintive voice, " My white sister, I kiss you in my heart ; I will love the God of my white brothers, and be his child." The two friends now busied themselves in preparing the evening meal : they found Louis and Hector had lighted up a charming blaze on tl» desolate hearth. A few branches of cedar twisted together by Catharine, made a serviceable broom, with which she swept the floor, giving to tlie deserted dwelling a neat and comfortable aspect ; some big stones were quickly rolled in, and made to answer for seats in the chimney corner. The new-found fishing-line was soon put into requic'tion by Louis, and with very little delay a fine dish of black bass, broiled on the coals, was added to their store of dried veni- Bon and roasted bread-roots, which they found in abundance on a low spot on the island. Grapes and butternuts which Hector cracked with stones by way of nut-crackers, finished their sylvan meal. Tlie boys stretched them- selves to sleep on the ground, with their feet, Lidian fashion, to the fire ; Avhile the two girls toucliecV; tiaiicl that asp, and eful love, plaintive ny heart ; rs, and be iselves in aid Louis y l)laze on 3 of cedar er vice able or, giving )mfortable rolled in, i chimney was soon vith very broiled on ried veni- iiey found he island. )r cracked finished icd tliem- their feet, two girls THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 231 occupied the mossy couch which tliey had newly spread with fragrant cedar and liemlock boughs. The next island that claimed their attention w^as Sugar-]\Iaple Island,"* a fine, thickly-wooded island, rising with steep rocky banks from llie water. A beautiful object, but too densely wooded to admit of our party penetrating beyond a few yards of its shores. The next island they named the Bcaver,t from its resemblance in sliape to tliat animal. A fine, high, oval island beyond this they named Black Island,! from its dark evergreens ; the next was that which seemed most to excite the interest of their Indian guide, although but a * Sugai' Island, a charming object from the picturesque cottage of Alfred Hayward, Esq. t The Beaver, commonly called Sheep Island, from some person having pastured a few sheep upon lo some few years ago. I have taken the liberty of preserving the name, to which it bears an obvious resemblance; the nose of the Beaver lies towards the west, the tail to the east. This island is nearly opposite to Gore's Landing, and forms a pleasing object from the Avindows and verandah of Claverton, the house of my esteemed friend, William Falkner, Esq., the Patriarch of the Plains, as he has often been termed; one of the only residents on the Rice Lake plains for many years ; one of the few gentlemen who had' taste enough to be charmed with this lovely tract of country, and to appreciate its agricultural resources, which, of late, have been so fully developed. t Black Island, the sixth from the head of the lake ; an oval island, remarkable for its evergreens. ■: M I .! Tl ,[ r \ i I : 232 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. small stony island, scantily clothed with trees, lower down the lake. This place she called Spooke Island,* which means in the Indian tongue, a place for the dead ; it is sometimes called Spirit Island, and here, in times past, used the Indian people to bury their dead. The island is now often the resort of parties of plea- sure, who, from its being grassy and open, find it more available than those which are densely wooded. The young Mohawk regarded it with feelings of superstitious awe, and would not suf- fer Hector to land the canoe on its rocky shores. " It is a place of spirits," she said ; " the ghosts of my fathers will be angry if we go there." Even her young companions felt that they were upon sacred ground, and gazed with silent reverence upon the burial isle. Strongly imbued with a love of the marvel- lous, which they had derived from their Highland origin, Indiana's respect for tlio spirits of her ancestors was regarded as most natural, and in silence, as if fearing to disturb the solemnity of the spot, they resumed their paddles, and after awhile reached the mouth of the river Otonabee, which was divided into two separate channels by a long, low point of swampy land covered with stunted, mossy bushes and trees, rushes, drift- * Appendix H. THE CANADIAN CliUSOES. 233 ;li trees, e called ! Indian •metimes ast, used ,d. The of plea- pen, find 1 densely i it with L not suf- y shores, id; "the if we go felt that Lzed with mar\ el- lighland ts of her 1, and in mnity of and after tonahee, |nnels by red with drift- wood, and aquatic plants. Indiana told tliem this river flowed from the north, and that it was many days' journey up to the lakes ; to illustrate its course, she drew with her paddle a long line with sundry curves and broader spaces, some longer, some smaller, with bays and inlets, wl ich she gave them to understand were the chain of lakes that she spoke of. There were beautiful hunting gi'ounds on the borders of these lakes, and many fine water-falls and rocky islands ; she had been taken up to these waters during the time of her captivity. The Ojebwas, she said, were a branch of the great Chippewa nation, who owned much land and great waters thereabouts. Compared with the creeks and streams that they had seen hitherto, the Otonabee appeared a majestic river, and an object of great admiration and curiosity, for it seemed to them as if it were the high road leading up to an unknown far-off land — a land of dark, mysterious, impenetrable forests, — flowing on, flowing on, in lonely majesty, reflecting on its tranquil bosom the blue sky, the dark pines, and grey cedars, — the pure ivory water-lily, and every passing shadow of bird or leaf that flitted across its surface— so quiet was the onward flow of its waters. A few brilliant leaves yet lingered on the soft maples and crimson-tinted oaks, but the glory . :^: fl,. if I i 4 U : III.', I: ' 234 THE CANADIAN CRUSOEH. of tlic forest liad departed ; tlic silent fall of many a sear and yellow leaf told of tlie death of sum- mer and of winter's coming reign. Yet tlie air was wrapt in a deeeitful stillness ; no Lreatli of wind moved the trees or dimpled the water. Bright wreaths of scarlet berries and wild grapes Imng in festoons among the faded foliage. Tlie siLnce of the forest was unbroken, save by the quick tapping of the little midland wood-pecker, or the shrill scream of the blue jay ; the whirring sound of the large white and grey duck, (called by the frequenters of these lonely waters the whistle-wixig,) as its wings swept the waters in its flight ; or the light dripping of the paddle ; — so still, so quiet was the scene. As the day was now far advanced, the Indian girl advised them either to encamp for the night on the river bank, or to use all speed in returning. She seemed to view the aspect of the heavens with some anxiety. Vast volumes of light copper- tinted clouds were rising, the sun seen through its hazy veil looked red and dim, and a liot sultry air unrelieved by a breath of refreshing wind oppressed our young voyagers ; and though the same coppery clouds and red sun had been seen for several successive days, a sort of instinc- tive feeling prompted the desire in all to return ; and after a few minutes' rest and refreshment, THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 235 L of many L of ftiun- ct tlic air ■breath of he water, ikl grapes ige. The ,vc hy the ocl-pecker, c whirring ck, (called vaters the ', waters in , padcUc ; — the Indian |he night on returning. Ihe heavens ^'ht copper- through md a hot refreshing ind though had been of instinc- to return ; ifieshmcnt, they turned their little hark towards the lake ; and it waawwell that they did so : by tlie time tliey had reached the middle of the lake, tlie stillness of the air was ra])idly changing. The rose-tinted clouds that had lain so long piled upon each other in mountainous ridges, Legan to move upwards, at first slowly, then with rapidly accelerated motion. There was a hol- low moaning in the pine tops, and by fits a gusty breeze swept the surface of the water, raising it into rough, sliort, Avhite-crested ridges. These signs were pointed out by Indiana as tlic harbinger of a rising hurricane ; and now a swift spark of liglit like a falling star glanced on the water, as if there to quench its fiery light. Again the Indian girl raised her dark hand and pointed to the rolling storm-clouds, to the crested waters and the moving pine tops ; then to the head of the Beaver Island — it was tiic one nearest to them. With an arm of energy she wielded the paddle, with an eye of fire she directed the course of their little vessel, for well she knew their danger and the need for straining every nerve to reacli the nearest point of land. Low muttering peals of thunder were now licard, the wind was rising with electric speed. Away flew the light bark, with the swiftness of a bird, over the water; the tempest was above, .1 I ! ! I ' m n * f ' 230 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. around and beneath. The hollow crash of the forest tree.s as they bowed to*» the earth could be heard, sullenly sounding from shore to shore. And now the Indian girl, flinging back her black sticaming hair from her brow, knelt at the head of the canoe, and with renewed vigour plied the paddle. The waters, lashed into a state of turbulence by the violence of the storm, lifted the canoe up and down, but no word was spoken — th- each felt the greatness of the peril, but the}' also knew that they were in the hands of Him who can say to the tempest-tossed waves, "Peace, be still," and they obey Him. Every effort was made to gain the nearest island; to reach the mainland was impossible, for the rain poured down a blinding deluge ; it was with difficulty the little craft was kept afloat, by baling out the water ; to do this, Louis was fain to use his cap, and Catharine assisted with the old tin-pot which she had fortunately brought from the trapper's shanty. The tempest was at its height when they reached the nearest point of the Beaver, and joyful was the grating sound of the canoe as it was vigor- ously pushed up on the shingly beach, beneath the friendly shelter of the overhanging trees, where, perfectly exhausted by the exertions they had made, dripping with rain and overpowered THE CANADIAN CRU80ES. 237 cvfisli of the earth om shore her brow, li renewed ashed into the stonii, word was if the peril, . the hands ;sed waves, 1. the nearest impossible, ag deluge; was kept do this, Catharine 1 she had s shanty. ley reached joyful was was vigor- ;h, beneath ging trees, irtions they verpowered by the terrors of the .storm, they tlirew thcinselv es on the ground, and in safety wiitclud its progress — thankful fur an escape from sucli imminent peril. Thus ended the Indian sunnner — so deceitful in its calnmess and its beauty. The next day saw the ground white with snow, and hardened into stone by a premature frost. Our poor voyagers were not long in (putting the shelter of the Beaver Island, and betaking +hem onca more to their ark of refuge — the log-house on Mount Ararat. The winter, that year, set in with unusual severity some weeks sooner than usual, so that from the beginning of November to the middle of April the snow never entirely left the ground. The lake was soon covered with ice, and by the month of December it was one compact solid sheet from shore to shore. 238 THE CANADIAN CRr><0i:8. CHAPTER X. i I " Soared by the red and uoiny light." — Cor.ERiDGE. IIfx'Tor and Louis had now little employment, excepting chopping fire-wood, which was no very arduous task for two stout healtliy lads, used from childhood to handling the axe. Trapping, and liunting, and snaring hares, were occupations which they pursued more for the excitement and exercise than from hunger, as they had laid by ahundance of dried venison, fi>h, and birds, be- sides a plentiful store of rice. Tliey now visited those trees that they had marked in the summer, where they had noticed the bees hiving, and cut them down ; in one they got more tlian a pailful of rich honey-comb, and others yielded some more, some less ; this afforded them a deli- cious addition to their boiled rice, and dried acid fruits. They might have melted the wax, and burned candles of it ; but this was a refinement of luxury that never once occurred to our young house-keepers : the dry pine knotts that are found in the woods are the settlers' candles ; but Catharine made some very good vinegar with TIIK CANADIAN CRU.SOE?<. 239 niDiii:. ^loyment, IS no very ads, used Irapping, icupations imcnt and id laid by birds, bc- :)W visited summer, and cut a pailful dcd some a dcli- iried acid Avax, and finemcnt ur young that are ■55 irar with the refuse of the honey and combs, Ijy pouring* water on it, and kniving it to ferment in a warm nook of the chimney, in one of the bireli-bark vessels, and this was an excellent substitute for salt as a seasoning to tlie fresh meat and fisli. Like the Indians, they were now reconciled to the want of this seasonable article. Indiana seemed to enjoy the cold weather ; the lake, though locked up to every one else, was open toiler; with the aid of the tomahawk she patiently made an opening in tiie ice, and over this she built a Utile shelter of pine boughs stuck into the ice. Armed with a sharp spear carved out of hardened wood, she would lie upon the ice and patiently await the rising of some large fish to the air-hole, when dexterously plunging it into the unwary creature, she dragged it to the sur- face. !Many a noble fish did the young squaw bring home, and cast at the feet of him whom she had tacitly elected as her lord and master ; to him she offered the voluntary service of a faithful and devoted servant — I might almost have said, slave. During the middle of December there were some days of such intense cold, that even our young Crusoes, hardy as they Avere, preferred tlic blazing log-fire and warm ingle nook, to the frozen lake and cutting north-west wind which ^i I ii . 1 I ' I 240 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. % :i n ' : ■' I il ! blew the loose snow in blinding drifts over its bleak, unsheltered surface. Clad in the warm tunic and petticoat of Indian blanket with fur-lined mocassins, Catharine and her Indian friend felt little cold excepting to the face when they went abroad, unless the wind was high, and then experience taught them to keep at home. And these cold gloomy days they em- ployed in many useful works. Indiana iiad succeeded in dyeing the quills of the porcupine that she had captured on Grape Island ; with these she worked a pair of beautiful mocassins and an arrow case for Hector, besides making a sheath for Louis's coufeau-du-chasse, of which the young hunter was very proud, bestowing great praise on the workmanship. Indiana appeared to be deeply engrossed with some work that she was engaged in, but pre- served a provoking degree of mystery about it, to the no small annoyance of Louis, who, among his other traits of character, was remarkably inquisitive. wanting to know the why and wherefore of everything he saw. Indiana first prepared a frame of some tough wood, it miglit be the inner bark of the oak or elm or hiccory ; this was pointed at either end, and Avide in the middle — not very much unlike the form of some broad, flat fish ; over this she f THE CANADIAN C.IUSOES. 241 over Its he warm Lct with f Indian ace wLen ^as liigli, keep at they cm- iana liad porcupine ,nd; with mocassins making a of which bestowing )ssed with but pre- a'bout it, 10, among markably why and pme tough the oak or [ither end, Ich unlike Ir this she wove an open network of narrow thongs of deer- hide, wetted to make it more pHable, and se- curely fastened to the frame : when dry, it became quite tight, and resembled a sort of coarse bamboo-work such as you see on cane- bottomed chairs and sofas. " And now, Indiana, tell us what sort of fish you are going to catch in your ingenious little net," said Louis, who had watched her pro- ceedings with great interest. The girl shook her head, and laughed till she showed all her white teeth, but quietly proceeded to commence a second frame like the first. Louis put it on his head. No : it could not be meant to be worn there, that was plain. He turned it round and round. It must be intended for some kind of bird-trap : yes, that must be it ; and he cast an inquiring glance at Indiana. She blushed, shook her head, and gave another of her silent laughs. " Srme game like battledore and shuttle- cock," — and snatching up a light bass-wood chip, he began tossing the chip up and catching it on the netted frame. The little squaw was highly amused, but rapidly went on ^vith her work. Loui^i was now almost angry at the perverse little savage persev^^ring in keeping him in 'mspense. She would not tell him till the other 242 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. n : .H • n 1:: was done : then there were to be a pair of these curious articles : and he was forced at last to sit quietly down to watch the proceeding of tlie work. It was night before the two were com- pleted, and furnished with straps and loops. When the last stroke was put to them, the Indian girl knelt down at Hector's feet, and binding them on, pointed to them with a joyous laugh, and said, " Snow-shoe — for walk on snow —good!" The boys had heard of snow-shoes, but liad never seen them, and now seemed to understand little of the benefit to be derived from the use of them. The young Mohawk quickly trans- ferred the snow-shoes to her own feet, and soon proved to them that the broad surface prevented those who wore them from sinking into the deep snow. After many trials Hector began to ac- knowledge the advantage of walkii:g with the snow-shoes, especially on the frozen snow on the ice-covered lake. Indiana was well pleased with the approbation that her manufactures met with, and very soon manufactured for "Nee-chee," as they all now called Louis, a similar present. As to Catharine, she declared the snow-shoes made her ancles ache, and that she preferred the mocassins that her cousin Louis made for lier. S^ THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 243 of tliese i last to ig of tlie ^ere cotn- nd loops, tlieni, the feet, and li a joyous tk on snow is, but liad understand L-om the use Ickly trans- it, and soon ;e prevented ito the deep legan to ac- .,0: with the ;jn snow on well pleased factures met "ls[ee-chee," I ilar present, snow-shoes [le preferred Liis pret niade for During the long bright days of February they made several excursions on the lake, and likewise explored some of the high hills to the eastward. On this ridge there were few large trees ; but it was thickly clothed with scrub oaks, slender poplars, and here and there fine pines, and picturesque free-growing oaks of considerable size and great age — patriarchs, they might be termed, among the forest growth.* Over this romantic range of hill and dale, free as the air they breathed, roamed many a gallant herd of deer, unmolested unless during certain seasons when the Indians came to hunt over these hills. Surprised at the different growth of the oaks on this side the plains, Hector could not help expressing his astonishment to Indiana, who told him that it was caused by the custom that her people had had from time immemorial of setting fire to the bushes in the early part of spring. This practice, she said, promoted the growth of the deer-grass, made good cover for tiiv. deer themselves, and effectually prevented the increase of the large timbers. This circum- stance gives a singular aspect to this high ridge of hills when contrasted with the more wooded * One of these hoary monarchs of the Oak-hills still stands at the head of the lawn at Oaklands, formerly the property of Mr. W. Falkner, now the residence of the Authoress. ,i I ^ 5, 244 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ^N li I ' Ir; portions to the westward. From the lake these eastern hills look verdant, and as if covered with tall green fern. In the month of October a rich rosy tint is cast upon the leaves of the scrub oaks by the autumnal ^rosts, and they present a glowing unvaried crin on of the most glorious hue, only variegated i" spots by a dark feathery evergreen, or a patch of light waving poplars turned by the same wizard's wand to golden yellow. There were many lovely spots, — lofty rounded hills, and deep shady dells, wHh extended table- land, and fine lake views ; .on the whole our young folks preferred the oak openings and the beautiful wooded glens of the western side, where they had fixed their home. There was one amusement that they used greatly to enjoy during the cold bright days and mooiilight nights of midwinter. This was glid- ing down the frozen snow on the steep side of the dell near the spring, seated on small hand- sleighs, which carried them down with gjeat velocity. Wrapped in their warm furs, with caps fastened closely over their ears, what cared they for the cold? Warm and glowing from head to foot, with cheeks brightened by the delightful exercise, they ^voiild remain for hours enjoying the amusemeui, v^f the bJJiO^\^-slide ; the THE CATADIAN CRUSOES. 245 Lke these ered witli ber a ricli the scrub present a t glorious k feathery ig poplars to golden fty rounded iided tahle- the whole penings and estern side, they used iht days and I lis was glid- teep side of Ismail hand- with g^-eat furs, with [, what cared Lowing from >iied hy the Lin for hours hs^-slide; the bright frost gemming the ground with myriads of diamonds, sparkling in their hair, or whitening it till it rivalled the snow beneath their feet. Then, when tired out with the exercise, they returned to the shanty, stirred up a blazing fire, till the smoked rafters glowed in the red light ; spread their simple fare of stewed rice sweet- ener" with honey, or maybe a savoury soup of hare or other game ; and then, when warmed and fed, they kneeled together, side by side, and offered up a prayer of gratitude to their Maker, and besought his care over them during the dark and silent hours of night. Had these young people been idle in their habits and desponding in their tempers, they must have perished with cold and hunger, in- stead of enjoying many necessaries and even some little luxuries in their lonely forest home. Fortunately they had been brought up in the early privoiice of every sort of usefulness, to endure every privation with cheerfL'.^. fortitude; not, indeed, quietly to sit down and wait for better times, but vigorously to create those better times by every possible exertion that could be brought into action to assist and ame- liorate their condition. To be up and doing, is the maxim of a Canadian ; and it is this tli^. nerves his arm to ' ii 246 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. i ! i,' •I I „ J] : i (I : I I I ! ■hf do and bear. The Canadian settler, following in the steps of the old Americans, learns to supply all his wants by the exercise of his own energy. lie brings up his family to rely upon their own resources, instead of depending upon his neighbours. The children of the modern emigrant, though enjoying a higher degree of civilization and intelligence, arising from a liberal education, might not have fared so well under similar circumstances as did our Canadian Crusoes, because, unused to battle with the hardships incidental to a life of such privation as they had known, they could not have brought so much experience, or courage, or ingenuity to their aid. It requires courage to yield to circumstances, as well as to overcome them. Many little useful additions to the interior of their dwelling were made by Hector and Louis during the long winter. They made a smoother and better table than the first rougli one tliat they put together. They also nuide a rough partition of split cedars, to form a distinct and separate sleeping-room for the two girls ; but as this division greatly circumscribed their sitting and cooking apartment, they resolved, as soon as the spring came, to cut and draw in logs for putting up a better and larger room to be used THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 247 bUowing ,canis to ' Ids own rely upon ling upon at, thougli ,atiou and education, Lev similar a Crusoes, . hardships as they liad lit so miich to their aid. nstanccs, as interior o£ and Louis a smoother ^'h owe that de a rough distinct and iris ; but as tiieir sitting ;d, as soon as in logs for hn to he used d as a summer parlour. Indiana and Louis made a complete set of wooden trenchers out of butter- nut, a fine hard wood of excellent grain, and less liable to warp or crack than many others. Louis's skill as a carpenter was mucli greater than that of his cousin. He no^ only possessed more judgment and was more handy, but he had a certain taste and neatness in finishing his work, however rough his materials and rude his tools. He inherited some of that skill in mechan- ism for which the French have always been remarked. AYith his knife and a nail lie would carve a plum-stone into a miniature basket, with handle across it, all delicately wrought with flowers and cheeker-work. The shell of a butter-nut would be transformed into a boat, with thwarts, and seats, and rudder ; with sails of bass-wood or birch-bark. Combs he could cut out of wood or bone, so that Catharine could dress her hair, or confine it in braids or bands at will. This was a source of great comfort to her; and Louis was always pleased when he could in any way contribute to his cousin's happiness. These little arts Louis had been taught by his father. Indeed, the entire distance that .iieir little settlement was from any town or village had necessarily forced their families to depend on their own ingenuity and invention 248 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES, IJ: •: 1, I 1 • rl- to supply many of their wants. Once or twice a-year they saw a trading fur-mercliant, as I before observed ; and iliose were glorious days for Hector and Louis, who were always on the alert to render the strangers any service in their power, as by that means they sonietimcH received little gifts from them, and gleaned up valuable information as to tlieir craft as hunters and trappers. And then there were Avondcrfiil tales of marvellous feats and hair-breadth escapes to listen to, as they sat with eager looks and open ears round the blazing log-fire in the old log- house. Now they would in their turns have tales to tell of strange adventures, and all that had befallen them since the first day of their wanderings on the Rice Lake Plains. The long winter passed away unmarked by any very stirring event. The Indians had revisited the hunting-grounds ; but they confined them- selves chiefly to the eastern side of the plains, the lake, and the islands, and did not come near their little dwelling to molest them. The latter end of the month of March presented fine sugar- making weather ; and as they had the use of the big iron pot, they resolved to make maple sugar and some molasses. Long Island was decided upon as the most eligible place : it had the ad- vantage over Maple Island of having a shanty THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 249 1 or twice ant, as I LOUS days lys on the ;e in their •H rcccivc'l p valuaulc ntcrs and Icrful tales escapes to 3 and open le old log- turns have ,nd all that lay of their » rkcdhyany ad revisited fined them- the plains, t come near The latter fine sugar- e asc of the aple sugar as decided had the ad- ig a shanty ready built for a shelter during the time they might see fit to remain, and a good boiling- place, which would be a comfort to the girls, as they need not be exposed to the weather during the process of sugaring. The two boys soon cut down some small pines and bass-woods, which they hewed out into sUgar-troughs ; Indiana mnnufactuied some rough pails of birch-bark ; aii'l the i'trat favouraf)le flay for the work thi / loaded Up fl liand-sleigh with ihfir vessels, and marched forth over the ice to ihe island, and tapped the trees they thought could yield sap for their purpose. And many pleasant days they passed during the sugar-making seanon. They did not leave the sugar-busli for good till the commencement of April, when the sun and wind beginning to unlock the springs that fed the lake, and to act upon its surface, taught them that it would not lo g be prudent to remain on the island. The loud booming sounds that were now frequently heard of the pent-up air beneath striving to break forth from its icy prison, were warnings not to be neglected. Openings began to appear, especially at the entrance of the river, and between the islands, and opposite to some of the larger creeks ; blue streams that attracted the water- fowl, ducks, and wild geese, that came, guided by that instinct that never errs, from I i \ ^ ;f' - i 250 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. their uLicling-places in far-off lands ; and Indiana knew the signs of the wild birds coming and going with a certainty that seemed almost mar- vellous to her simple-minded companions. How delightful were the first indications of the coming spring ! How joyously our young Crusoes heard the first tapping of the red- headed woodpecker, the low, sweet, warbling note of the early song-sparrow, and twittering chirp of tlie snow-bird, or tliat neat quakerly- looking bird, that comes to cheer us with the news of sunny days and green buds, the low, tender, Avhispering note of the chiccadee, flitting among the pines or in the thick branches of the shore- side trees ! The chattering note of the little striped chitmunk, as it pursued its fellows over the fallen trees, and the hollow sound of the male partridge heavily striking his wings against his sides to attract the notice of the female birds — were among the early spring melodies, for such they seemed to our forest dwellers, and for such they listened with eager ears, for they told them — " That winter, cold winter, was past, And that spring, lovely spring, wsm approaching at last." They watched for the first song of the robin,* and the full melody of the red * Tardus migratorius, or American robin. THE CANADIAN CIIUSOES. 251 id Indiana ming and most mar- ons. ications of our young ' the rcd- , warl)ling twittering quakcrly- tli the news ow, tender, ting among the sliore- f tlie little ellows over and of the ngs against emale birds elodies, for ers, and for for they was past, ling at last." ng of the f the red ibin. tlniisli ;* the rushing sound of the pasatnigcr- pigeon, as flocks of these l)irds darted a' ove their heads, sometimes pausing to rest on the dry limb of some witlicred oak, or darting down to feed upon the scarlet berries of the spicy winter- green, the acorns that still lay upon tlie now uncovered ground, or tlie berries of liawthorii and dogwo')d that still hung on tlie bare bushes. The pines were now putting on their rich, mossy, green spring dresses ; the skies were deep blue ; nature, weary of her long state of inaction, seemed waking into life and light. On the Plains the snow soon disappears, for the sun and air has access to the earth much easier than in the close, dense forest ; and Hector and Louis were soon able to move about with axe in hand, to cut the logs for the ad- dition to the house which they proposed making. They also set to Avork as soon as the frost was out of the ground, to prepare their little field for the Indian corn. This kept them quite busy. Catharine attended to the house, and Indiana went out fishing and hunting, bringing in plenty of small game and fish every day. After they had piled and bm'ned up the loose boughs and trunks that encumbered the space which they had marked out, they proceeded to * Tunlus melodus, or wood-tlirush. :n ': fi' 4 I*' IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 IA£IM 12.5 I.I U8 140 1 2.0 Photographic Sdmces Corporation |l.25 |U 1^ < 6" - ' ► JS ^\ p 23 WIST MAIN STMIT WIBSTIR,N.Y. MSM (716) 872-4S03 4^ o'^ 1 f; M ' )! •, 252 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. enclose it with a "brush fence, which was done by felling the trees that stood in the line of the field, and letting them fall so as to form the bottom log of the fence, which they then made of sufficient height by piling up arms of trees and brush-wood. Perhaps in this matter they were too particular, as there was no fear of " breachy cattle," or any cattle, intruding on the crop ; but Hector maintained that deer and bears were as much to be guarded against as oxen and cows. The little enclosure was made secure from any such depi ^.dators, and was as clean as hands could mf.ke it, and the two cousins were sitting on a log, contentedly surveying their work, and talking of the time when the grain was to be put in. It was about the beginning of the second week in May, as near as they could guess from the bursting of the forest buds and the blooming of such of the flowers as they were acquainted with. Hector's eyes had fol- lowed the flight of a large eagle that now, turning from the lake, soared away majestically towards the east or Oak-hills. But soon his eye was attracted to another object. The loftiest part of the ridge was enveloped in smoke. At first he thought it must be some mist-wreath hovering over its brow; but soon the dense THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 253 IS done by ne of the . form the then made as of trees latter they no fear of truding on it deer and against as jecm-e from s clean as ousins were eying their n the grain e beginning ear as they forest buds pvers as they yes had fol- that now, majestically Jut soon his The loftiest smoke. At mist-wreath 1 the dense rolling clouds rapidly spread on each side, and he felt certain that it was from fire, and nothing but fire,* that those dark volumes arose. " Louis, look yonder ! the hills to the east are on fire." " On fire, Hector ? you are dreaming ! " " Nay, but look there ! " The hills were now shrouded in one dense, rolling cloud ; it moved on with fearful rapidity down the shrubby side of the hill, supplied by the dry, withered foliage and deer-grass, which was like stubble to the flames. "It is two miles off, or more," said Louis ; " and the creek will stop its progress long before it comes near us — and the swamp there, beyond Bare Hill." " The cedars are as dry as tinder ; and as to the creek, it is so narrow, a burning tree falling across would convey the fire to this side; be- sides, when the wind rises, as it always does when the bush is on fire, you know how far the burning leaves will fly. Do you remember when the forest was on fire last spring, liow long it continued to burn, and how fiercely it raged! It was lighted by the ashes of your father's pipe, when he was out in the new fallow ; the leaves were dry, and kindled ; and before night the woods were burning for miles." * Appendix I. 1' 254 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. a \i' ! I •: It was a grand spectacle, those pine-hills, when the fire got in among them," said Louis. *' See, see how fast the fires kindle ; that must be some faiien pine that they have got hold of ; now, look at the lighting up of that hill — is it not grand?" " If the wind would but change, and blow in the opposite direction ! " said Hector, anxiously. " The wind, mon ami, seems to have little influence ; for as long as the fire finds fuel from the dry bushes and grass, it drives on, even against the wind." As they spoke the wind freshened, and they could plainly see a long line of wicked, bright flames, in advance of the dense mass of vapour which hung in its rear. On it came, that rolling sea of flame, with inconceivable rapidity, gathering strength as it advanced. The de- mon of destruction spread its red wings to the blast, rushing on with fiery speed ; and soon hill and valley were wrapped in one sheet of flame. "It must have been the work of the Indians," said Louis. " We had better make a retreat to the island, in case of the fire crossing the valley. We must not neglect the canoe; if the fire sweeps round by "the swamp, it may come upon us unawares, and then the loss of the canoe would TJIE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 255 ) pine-lulls, said Louis. ; that must rot hold of ; ill— is it not hange, and said Hector, ) have little ids fuel from sres on, even ed, and they ■icked, bright tss of vapour t came, that ahle rapidity, d. The de- :ed wings to ied ; and soon one sheet of the Indians," te a retreat to ng the valley. ; if the fire ay come upon le canoe would prevent escape by the lake. But here are the girls ; let us consult them. "It is the Indian burning," said Indiana ; " that is the reason there are so few big trees on that hill ; they bum it to make the grass better foj the deer." Hector had often pointed out to Louis the appearance of fire having scorched the bark of the trees, where they were at work, but it seemed to have been many years back ; and when they were digging for the site of the root-house* below the bank, whicli they had just finished, they had met with charred wood, at the depth of six feet below the soil, which must have lain there till the earth had accumulated over it ; a period of many years must necessarily have passed since the wood had been burned, as it was so much decomposed as to crumble beneath the wooden shovel which they were digging with. All day they watched the progress of that fiery sea whose waves were flame — red, rolling flame. Onward it came, with resistless speed, ovei*powering every obstacle, widening its sphere of action, till it formed a perfect semicircle about them. As the night drew on, the splendour of the scene became more apparent, and the patli * Root-houses are built over deep excavations below the reach of the frost, or the roots stored would be spoile'J. ^i il i! n 111. III rr ln< 256 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. H iv: of the fire better defined ; but there was no fear of the conflagration spreading as it had done in the daytime. The wind had sunk, and the copious dews of evening effectually pat a stop to the progress of the fire. The children could now gaze in security upon the magnificent spec- tacle before them, without the excitement pro- duced by its rapid spread during the daytime. They lay down to sleep in perfect security that night, but with the consciousness that, as the breeze sprung up in the morning, they must be on the alert to secure their little dwelling and its contents from the devastation that threatened it. They knew that they had no power to stop its onward course, as they possessed no imple- ment better than a rough wood-shovel, which would be found very ineffectual in opening a trench or turning the ground up, so as to cut off the communication with the dry grass, leaves, and branches, which are the fuel for supplying the fires on the Plains. The little clearing on one side the house they thought would be its safeguard, but the fire was advancing on three sides of them. " Let us hold a council, as the Indians do, to consider what is to be done." " I propose," ,'jaid Louis, " retreating, bag and baggage, to the nearest point of Long Island." THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 257 was no fear had done in ik, and the pat a stop to ildren could lificent spec- itement pro- the daytime, security that that, as the they must he dwelling and lat threatened power to stop jed no imple- shovel, which in opening a \o as to cut off grass, leaves, I for supplying ,e clearing on would he its Icing on three llndians do, to iting, hag and ong Island, " My French cousin has well spoken," said Hector, mimicking the Indian mode of speaking ; " but listen to the words of the wise. I propose to take all our household stores that are of the most value, to the island, and lodge the rest safely in our new root-house, first removing from its neighbourhood all such light, loose matter as is likely to take fire ; the earthen roof will save it from destruction; as to the shanty, it must take its chance to stand or fall." " The fence of the little clearing will be burned, no doubt. Well, never mind, better that than our precious selves ; and the com, for- tunately, is not yet sown," said Louis. Hector's advice met with general applause, and the girls soon set to work to secure the property they meant to leave. It was a fortunate thing that the root-house had been finished, as it formed a secure store- boas'*, for their goods, and would also be made available as a hiding-place from the Indians, in time of need. The boys carefully scraped away all the combustible matter from its vicinity, and also from the house ; but the rapid increase of the fire now warneu them to hurry down to join Catharine and the young Mohawk, who had gone off to the lake shore, with such things as they required to take with them. s I •• A ^ 258 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. WM i( It •if CHAPTER XL ♦* I know a lake where the cool waves break, , And softly fall on the silver sand, And no stranger intrudes on that solitude, And no voices but ours disturb the strand." Irish Song. The breeze had sprung up, and had already- brought the fire down as far as the creek. The swamp had long been on fire, and now the flames were leaping among the decayed timbers, roaring and crackling among the pines, and rushing to the tops of the cedars, springing from heap to heap of the fallen branches, and filling the air with dense volumes of black and suffocating smoke. So quickly did the flames advance that Hector and Louis had only time to push off the canoe before the heights along the shore were wrapped in smoke and fire. Many a giant oak and noble pine fell crashing to the earth, sending up ahowers of red sparks, as its burning trunk shivered in its fall. Glad to escape from the suffocating vapom*, the boys quickly paddled out to the island, enjoying the ^ool, fresh air of the lake. Reposing on the THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 259 break, - Dlitude, ,he strand." Irish Song. 1 had already e creek. The Qow the flames mbers, roaring ,nd rushing to from lieap to filling the air nd suffocating lames advance time to push ,ts along the .d fire. Many crashing to the , sparks, as its fall. Glad to [pom-, the hoys id, enjoying the deposing on the grass beneath the trees, they passed the day, sheltered from tlie noonday sun, and watclied the progress of tlic fires upon the shore. At night the girls slept securely under the canoe, which they raised on one side by means of forked sticks stuck in the ground. It was a grand sight to sec the burning plains at night, reflected on the water. A thousand flaming torches flickered upon its still surface, to which the glare of 9 gas-lighted city would have been dim and dull by contrast. Louis and Hector would speculate on the pro- bable chances of the shanty escaping from the fire, and of the fence remaining untouched. Of the safety of the root-house they entertained no fear, as the grass was already springing green on the earthen roof; and below they had taken every precaution to secure its safety, by scraping up the earth near it.* Catharine lamented for the lovely spring- flowers that would be destroyed by the fire. * Many a crop of grain and comfortable homestead has been saved by turning a furrow roimd the field ; and great confla- grations have been eflFectually stopped by men beating the fire out with spades, and hoeing up the fresh earth so as to cut off all communication with the dry roots, grass, and leaves that feed its onward progress. Water, even could it be got, v/hich is often impossible, is not near so effectual in stopping the progress of fire ; even women and little children can assist in such emergencies. ill I: I I i i il If 260 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I : ! i' II *'We shall have neither huckleberries nor strawberries this summer," she said, mournfully; " and the pretty roses and bushes will be scorched, and the ground black and dreary." " The fire passes so rapidly over that it does not destroy many of the forest trees, only the dead ones are destroyed ; and that, you know, leaves more space for the living ones to grow and thrive in," said Hector. " I have seen, the year after a fire has run in the bush, a new and fresh set of plants spring up, and even some that looked withered recover ; the earth is renewed and manured by the ashes ; and it is not so great a misfortune as it at first appears." " But how black and dismal the burnt pine- woods look for years 1 " said Louis ; " I do not think there is a more melancholy sight in life than one of those burnt pine-woods. There it stands, year after year, the black, branchless trees pointing up to the blue sky, as if crying for vengeance against those that kindled the fires." " They do, indeed, look ugly," said Catharine; " yet the girdled ones look very nearly as ill."* At the end of two days the fires had ceased to rage, though the dim smoke-wreaths to the west- * The girdled pines are killed by barkiug them round, to facilitate the clearing. 1 1 1 ' THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 261 .ferries nor ^es will be dreary." that it does 568, only the ;j you know, s to grow and icen, the year aew and fresh en some that th is renewed is not so great he Toumt pine- lis ; " I do «o* [y sight in life ,ods. There it Lck, branchless , as if crying ,t kindled the Isaid Catharine; [nearly as ill. Is had ceased to Iths to the west- ag them round, to ward showed where the work of destruction wa? still going on. As there was no appearance of any Indians on the lake, nor yet at the point {Anderson's Point, as it is now called), on the other side, they concluded the fires had possibly originated by accident, — some casual hunter or trapper having left his camp-fire unextinguished ; but as they were not very likely to come across the scene of the conflt gration, they decided on returning back to their old home without delay; and it was with some feeling of anxiety that they hastened to see what evil had befallen their shanty. " The shanty is burned ! " was the simul- taneous exclamation of both Louis and Hector, as they reached the rising ground that should have commanded a view of its roof. " It is well for us that we secured our things in the root- house," said Hector. " Well, if that is safe, who cares ? we can soon build up a new house, larger and better than the old one," said Louis. " The chief of our fence is gone, too, I see ; but that we can renew at our leisure; no hurry, if we get it done a month hence, say I. Come, ma belle, do not look so sorrowfuL There is our little squaw will help us to set up a capital wigwam, while the new house is building." if Ij ^ f . 2r>2 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. H i ; " But the nice table that you made, Louis, and the benches and shelves !" " Never mind, Cathy, we will have better tables, and benches, and shelves too. Never fear, ma ch^re, the same industrious Louis will make things comfortable. I am not sorry the old shanty is down ; we shall have a famous one put up, twice as large, lor the winter. After the com is planted we shall have nothing else to do but to think about it." The next two or three days was spent in erecting a wigAvam, with poles and birch bark ; and as the weather was warm and pleasant, they did not feel the inconvenience so much as they would have done bad it been earlier in the season. The root-house formed an excellent store-house and pantry ; and Indiana contrived, in putting up the wigwam, to leave certain loose folds between the birch-bark lining and outer coverings which formed a series of pouches or bags, in which many articles could be stowed away out of sight.* While the girls were busy contriving the aiTangements of the wigwam, the two boys were not idle. The time was come for planting the * In this way the winter wigwams of the Indians are con- structed so as to give plenty of stowing room for all their little household matters, materials for work, &c. made, Louis, have better too. Never 13 Louis will sorry the old mous one put ^fter the com else to do but was spent in I birch bark ; pleasant, they much as they earlier in the an excellent ana contrived, e certain loose ing and outer of pouches or uld be stowed contriving the two boys were r planting the lie Indians are con- room for all their ! Mi !' li ■ (I ■ i iM' TNOTAN WCIMAN KV T'R R DOOli (ip ill H: M tl THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 263 i;M \^' corn ; a succession of heavy thunder-showers had soaked and softened the scorched earth, and rendered the labour of moving it much easier than they had anticipated. They had cut for themselves wooden trowels, with, which they raised the hills for the seed. The corn planted, they next turned their attention to cutting house- logs ; those which they had prepared had been burned up ; so they had their labour to begin again. The two girls proved good helps at the rais- ing ; and in the course of a few weeks they had the comfort of seeing a more commodious dwell- ing than the former one put up. The finishing of this, with weeding the Indian com, renewing the fence, and fishing, and trapping, and shooting partridges and ducks and pigeons, fully occu- pied their time this summer. The fruit season was less abundant this year than the previous one. The fire had done this mischief, and they had to go far a-field to collect fruits during the summer months. It so happened that Indiana had gone out early one morning with the boys, and Catharine was alone. She had gone down to the spring for water, i\nd on her return was surprised at the sight of a squaw and her family of three half-grown lads, and an innocent little brown r [ t .• \j ■■ \ .:! I ;l- I ! ,1 ' ' f! t i'» If: j, I ■1.4 iij].,! '■ 264 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. papoose.* In their turn the strangers seemed equally astonished at Catharine's appearance. The smiling aspect and good-natured laugh of the female, however, soon reassured the fright- ened girl, and she gladly gave her the water which she had in her birch dish, on her signi- fying her desire for drink. To this Catharine added some berries, and dried venison, and a bit of maple sugar, which was received with grate- ful looks by the boys; she patted the brown baby, and was glad when the mother released it from its wooden cradle, and fed and nursed it. The squaw seemed to notice the difference be- tween the colour of her young hostess's fair skin and her own swarthy hue ; for she often took her hand, stripped up the sleeve of her dress, and compared her arm \vith her own, uttering excla- mations of astonishment and curiosity ; possibly Catharine was the first of a fair-skinned race this poor savage had ever seen. After her meal was finished, she set the birchen dish on the floor, and restrapping the papoose in its cradle prison, she slipped the basswood-bark rope over her forehead, and silently signing to her sons to fol- low her, she departed. That evening a pair of * An Indian baby ; but "papoose" is not an Indian word. It is probably derived from the Indian imitation of the word "babies." THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 265 rs seemed ;arance. d laugh of the fright- the water her sigiii- Catharine 1, and a hit j\rith grate- the hrown • released it L nursed it. Bference he- s's fair skin often took ;r dress, and ering excla- ;y; possihly aed race this er meal was on the floor, radle prison, pe over her r sons to fol- ng a pair of an Indian word, iion of the word ducks were found fastened to the wooden latch of the door, a silent offering of gratitude for the refreshment that had been afforded to this Indian woman and her children. Indiana thought, from Catharine's description, that these were Indians with whom she was ac- quainted ; she spent some days in watcliing the lake and the ravine, lest a larger and more for- midable party should be near. The squaw, she said, was a widow, and went by the name of Mother Snow-storm, from having been lost in the woods, when a little child, during a heavy storm of snow, and nearly starved to death. She was a gentle, kind woman, and, she believed, would not do any of them hurt. Her sons were good hunters ; and though so young, helped to support their mothei', and were very good to her and the little one. I must now pass over a considerable interval of time, with merely a brief notice that the crop of corn was carefully harvested, and proved abundant, and a source of great comfort. The rice was gathered and stored, and plenty of game and fish laid by, with an additional store of honey. The Indians, for flome reason, did not pay their accustomed visit to the lake this season. Indiana said they might be engaged with war 1;! 1 ! I f I; ill f 111- ' , 266 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. among some hostile tribes, or had gone to other hunting grounds. The winter was un- usually mild, and it was long before it set in. Yet the spring following was tardy, and later than usual. It was the latter end of May before vegetation had made any very decided progress. The little loghouse presented a neat and com- fortable appearance, both within and without. Indiana had woven a handsome mat of bass bark for the floor ; Louis and Hector had furnished it with very decent seats and a table, rough, but still very respectably constructed, consider- ing their only tools were a tomahawk, a knife, and wooden wedges for splitting the wood into slabs. These Louis afterwards smoothed with great care and patience. Their bedsteads were furnished with thick, soft mats, woven by Indi- ana and Catharine, from rushes which they cut and dried ; but the little squaw herself preferred lying on a mat or deer- skin on the floor before the fire, as she had been accustomed. A new field had been enclosed, and a fresh crop of corn planted, and was now green and flourishing. Peace and happiness dwelt within the loghouse; — but for the regrets that ever attended the remembrance of all they had left and lost, no cloud would have dimmed the 1 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 267 d gone to er was un- e it set in. r, and later nd of May ery decided tat and com- md without, of bass "bark furnished it able, rough, ed, consider- Lwk, a knife, he wood into oothed with dsteads were ven by Indi- lich they cut elf preferred e floor before d. and a fresh iw green and dwelt within its that ever they had left dimmed the serenity of those who dwelt beneath its humble roof. The season of flowers had again arrived, — the earth, renovated by the fire of the former year, bloomed with fresh beauty, — June, with its fra- grant store of roses and lilies, wia now far ad- vanced, — the anniversary of that time when they had left their beloved parents' roofs, to become sojourners in the lonely wilderness, liad re- turned. Much they felt they had to be grateful for. Many privations, it is true, and much anxiety they haJ felt ; but they had enjoyed blessings above all that they could have ex- pected, and they might, like the Psalmist when recounting the escapes of the people of God, have said, — " Oh that men would therefore praise the Lord for his goodness, and the wonders that he doeth for the children of men." And now they declared no greater evil could befal them than to lose one of their little party, for even Indiana had become as a dear and beloved sister ; her gentleness, her gratitude and faithful trusting love, seemed each day to increase. Now, indeed, she was bound to them by a yet more sacred tie, for she knelt to the same God, and acknow- ledged, with fervent love, the mercies of her Redeemer. She had made great progress in learning their language, and had also taught her I n ■ H I ,'- ■\ i ;i n 268 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. friends to speak and understand much of her own tongue ; so that they were now no longer at a loss to converse with her on any subject. Thus was this Indian girl united to them in bonds of social and Christian love. Hector, Louis, and Indiana had gone over the hills to follow the track of a deer which had paid a visit to the young com, now sprouting and showing symptoms of shooting up to blossom. Catharine usually preferred staying at home, and preparing the meals against their return. She had gathered some fine ripe strawberries, which, with plenty of stewed rice, Indian meal cake, and maple sugar, was to make their dinner. She was weary and warm, for the day had been hot and sultry. Seating herself on the threshold of the door, she leaned her back against the door- post, and closed her eyes. Perhaps the poor child's thoughts were wandering back to her far-oiF, never-to-be-forgotten home, or she might be thinking of the hunters and their game. Sud- denly a vague, undefinable feeling of dread stole over her mind : she heard no steps, she felt no breath, she saw no form ; but there was a strange consciousness that she was not alone — that some unseen being was near, some eye was upon her. I have heard of sleepers starting from sleep the most profound when the noiseless hand of the THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 269 ti of her own longer at a )ject. Thus L in bonds of Tone over the lich had paid prouting and ^ to blossom, tig at home, their return, strawberries, I, Indian meal :g their dinner. 1 day had been the threshold ainst the door- haps the poor back to her 3, or she might r game. Sud- of dread stole ips, she felt no was a strange me — that some was upon her. from sleep the hand of the assassin has been raised to destroy them, as if the power of the human eye could be felt through the closed lid. Thus fared it with Catharine : she felt as if some unseen enemy was near her ; and, spring- ing to her feet, she cast a wild, troubled glance around. No living being met her eye; and, ashamed of her cowardice, she resumed her seat. The tremulous cry of her little grey squirrel, a pet which she had tamed and taught to run to her and nestle in her bosom, attracted her attention. " What aileth thee, wee dearie?" she said, tenderly, as the timid little creature crept, trem- bling, to her breast. " Thy mistress has scared thee by her own foolish fears. See now, there is neither cat-a-mount nor weasel here to seize thee, silly one ;" and as she spoke she raised her head, and flung back the thick clusters of soft fair hair that shaded her eyes. The deadly glare of a pair of dark eyes fixed upon her met her terrified gaze, gleaming with sullen ferocity fi-om the angle of the door-post, whence the upper part of the face alone was visible, partly con- cealed by a mat of tangled, shaggy, black hair. Paralysed with fear, the poor girl neither spoke nor moved ; she uttered no cry ; bi.t pressing her hands tightly across her breast, as if to still the 270 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. r lit If 'II j< loud beating of her heart, she sat gazing upon that fearful appearance, while, with stealthy step, the savage advanced from his lurking-place, keeping, as he did so, his eyes riveted upon hers, with such a gaze as the wily serpent is said to fascinate his prey. His hapless victim moved not ; whither could she flee to escape one whose fleet foot could so easily have overtaken her in the race ? where conceal herself from him whose wary eye fixed upon her seemed to deprive her of all vital energy ? Uttering that singular, expressive guttural which seems with the Indian to answer the pur- pose of every other exclamation, he advanced, and taking the girl's ice-cold hands in his, tightly bound them with a thong of deer's hide, and led her unresistingly away. By a circuitous path through the ravine they reached the foot of the mount, where lay a birch canoe, rocking gently on the waters, in which a middle-aged female and a young girl were seated. The females asked no questions, and expressed no word indicative of curiosity or surprise, as the strong arm of the Indian lifted his captive into the canoe, and made signs to the elder squaw to push from the shore. When all had taken their places, the woman, catching up a paddle from the bottom of the little vessel, stood up, ;s. gazing upon vith stealthy urking-place, riveted upon \y serpent is lapless victim to escape one ave overtaken •self from him aed to deprive jsive guttural iswer the pur- he advanced, lands in his, of deer's hide, 3y a circuitous lied the foot of ;anoe, rocking a middle-aged seated. The expressed no irprise, as the is captive into e elder squaw all had taken ; up a paddle isel, stood up, '-■''^"'AUIM,; (.'Ak,,,,.. i'i , THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 271 and with a few rapid strokes sent it skimming over the lake. The miserable captive, overpowered with the sense of her calamitous situation, bowed down her head upon her knees, and concealing her agitated face in her garments, wept in silent agony. Visions of horror presented themselves to her bewildered brain — all that Indianf. had described of the cruelty of this vindictive race, came vividly before her mind. Poor child, what miserable thoughts were thine during that brief voyage I Had the Indians also captured her friends? or was she alone to be the victim of their ven- geance ? What would be the feelings of those beloved ones on returning to their home and finding it desolate I Was there no hop^ of release? As these ideas chased each other through her agitated mind, she raised her eyes all stream- I ing with tears to me faces of the Indian and his companions with so piteous a look, that any heart but the stoical one of an Indian would have softened at its sad appeal ; but no answering glance of sympathy met hers, no eye gave back its silent look of pity — not a nerve or a muscle moved the cold apathetic features of the Indians, and the woe-stric. en girl again resumed her melancholy attitude, burying her face in her Ft ^1 'J ii 272 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. J! I - ! heaving bosom to hide its bitter emotions from the heartless strangers. She was not fully aware that it is part of the Indian's education to hide the inward feelings of the heart, to check all those soft and tender emotions which distinguish the civilized man from the savage. It does indeed need the softening influence of that powerful Spirit, which was shed abroad into the world to turn the hearts of the dis- obedient to the wisdom of the just, to break down the strongholds of unrighteousness, and to teach man that he is by nature the child of wrath and victim of sin, and that in his unre- generated nature his whole mind is at enmity with God and his fellow-men, and that in his flesh dwelleth no good thing. And the Indian has acknowledged that power, — he has cast his idols of cruelty and revenge, those virtues oa which he prided himself in the blindness of his heart, to the moles and the bats ; he has bowed and adored at the foot of the Cross ; — but it was not so in the days whereof I have spoken.* ♦ Appendix K I 8 n h )ES. emotions from is part of the ward feelings oft and tender civilized man ig influence of \ shed abroad ts of the dis- just, to break teousness, and e the child of t in his unre- i is at enmity- id that in his nd the Indian le has cast his ose virtues oa lindness of his he has bowed 33 ; — but it was e spoken.* T"E CANADIAN CIJUSOES. 273 CHAPTER XII. BZAUMONT AND Fx^ETClIEn. move fomard aIon<. Z ' """^ *° '"^^ *« bank, wliere there was i lit,i„ ^ *''® enclosed with shrubby tree ^'"''^ «P°' at the lake-shore L W . ''1"''^' ^^^^J secure the eano^ ^ "1" **= V^^^'^' ^^d a«tra„ge^o the tj;;^Jr ^"''"'^ '^ plead for merey-whSe 1,1 ''" '''°"''' nor his laws ftose ^ wHch ^e T T ^°''' governed. Thus fclt ti ""welves are »tood alone, rZe with t ^"°' ''^''"'^ "^ '^' naked dusky fo L wL rV"!""^ *' ^"^^- Wself surroundeT st f 'u" ""^ f°«'"' *"• ®^^ «««t a humed glance 31 274 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ■. r , 1 . f I I i ft ^ ;l r ii I I round that strange assembly, if by chance lier eye might rest upon some dear familiar face, but she saw not the kind but gi-ave face of Hector, nor met the bright sparkling eye of her cousin Louis, nor the soft, subdued, pensive features of the Indian girl, her adopted sister — she stood alone among those wild gloomy-looking men; some turned away their eyes as if they would not meet her woe-stricken countenance, lest they should be moved to pity her sad condition ; no wonder that, overcome by the sense of her utter friendliness, she hid her face with her fettered hands and wept in despair. But the Indian's sympathy is not moved by tears and sighs ; calmness, courage, defiance of danger and con- tempt of death, are what he venerates and admires even in an enemy. The Indians beheld her grief unmoved. At length the old man, who seemed to be a chiet| among the rest, motioned to one of the womeii who leant against the side of the wigwam, to come forward and lead away the strangerj Catharine, whose senses were beginning to b more collected, heard the old man give order that she was to be fed and cared for. Gladl'i did she escape from the presence of those pitiles men, from whose gaze she shrunk with maidenl modesty. i^.nd now when alone with the wome i I 3. chance lier Aar face, "but , of Hector, )f her cousin re features of ■r^she stood looking men; if they wonhl ance, lest they condition; no ,se of her utter th her fettered xt the Indian's ars and sighs ; anger and con- venerates and unmoved. At. .a to he a chieil fe of the womeiij the wigwam, to ly the stranger) Iheginning to hc^ man give orded Lredfor. Gladb] [e of those pitiles ikwithmaidenlj with the womei THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 275 she hesitated not to make use of that natural language which requires not the aid of speech to make itself understood; clasping her hands imploringly, she knelt at the feet of the Indian woman, her conductress — kissed her dark hands and bathed them with her fast flowing tears, while she pointed passionately to the shore where lay the happy home from which she had been so suddenly torn. The squaw, though she evidently compre- hended the meaning of her imploring gestures, shook her head, and in plaintive earnest tone replied in her own language, that she must go with the canoes to the other shore, — and she pointed to the north as she spoke. She then motioned to the young girl — the same that had been Catharine's companion in the canoe — to bring a hunting knife, which was thrust into one of the folds of the birch-bark of the wigwam. Catharine beheld the deadly weapon in the hands of the Indian woman with a pang of agony as great as if its sharp edge was already at her throat. So young — so young, to die by a cruel bloody death ! what had been lier crime ? — how should she find words to soften the heart of her murderess ? The power of utterance seemed denied — she cast herself on her knees and held up her hands in silent prayer ; not to the dreaded II. 276 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I ■' Indian woman, but to Him who heareth the prayer of the poor destitute — who alone can order the unruly wills and affections of men. The squaw stretched forth one dark hand and grasped the arm of the terror-struck girl, while the other held the weapon of destruction ; with a quick movement she severed the thongs that bound tlie fettered wrists of the pleading captive, and with a smile that seemed to light up her whole face she raised her from her pro- strate position, laid her hand upon her young- head, and with an expression of good-humoured surprise lifted the flowing tresses of her sunny hair and spread them over the back of her own swarthy hand ; then, as if amused by the striking contrast, she shook, down her own jetty- black hair and twined a tress of it with one of the fair haired girl's — then laughed till her teeth shone like pearls within her red lips. Many Tvere the exclamations of childish wonder that broke from the other females, as they compared the snowy arm of the stranger with their own dusky skins ; it was plain that they had no inten- tion of harming her, and by degrees distrust and dread of her singular companions began in some measure to subside. The squaw motioned her to take a seat on I a mat beside her, and gave her a handful of THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 277 earetli the alone can of men. dark hand struck girl, lestruction ; the thongs -he pleading ned to light rom her pro- a her young od-humoured of her sunny k of her own )y the striking 11 jetty-black Ith one of the Itill her teeth lips. Many ^^ wonder that they compared ith their own kad no inten- |es distrust and l)egan in some take a seat on I ir a handful ot] parched rice and some deer's flesh to eat ; but Catharine's heart was too heavy ; she was suf- fering from thirst, and on pronouncing the Indian word for water, the young girl snatched up a piece of birch-bark from the floor of the tent, and gathering the corners together, ran to the lake, and soon returned witli water in this most primitive drinking vessel, which she held to the lips of her guest, and she seemed amused by the long deep drauglit with which Catharine slaked her thirst ; and something like a gleam of hope came over her mind as she marked the look of kindly feeling with w^hicli she caught the young Indian girl regarding her, and she strove to overcome the choking sensation that would from time to time rise to her throat, as she fluctuated between hope and fear. The position of the Indian camp was so placed that it was quite hidden from the shore, and neither could Catharine see the mouth of the ravine, nor the steep side of the mount that her brothers were accustomed to ascend and descend in their visits to the lake shore, nor had she any means of making a signal to them even if she had seen them on the beach. The long, anxious, watchful night passed, and soon after sunrise, while the morning mists still hung over t] e lake, the canoes of the Indians ft; jt^ ;l 'i •■':.i ■ I .1^ I 1 \r^ 278 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. were launched, and long before noon they were in the mouth of the river. Catharine's heart sunk within her as the fast receding shores of the lake showed each minute fainter in the distance. At midday tliey halted at a fine bend in the river, where a small open place and a creek flowing down through the woods afforded them cool water; and here they found several tents put up and a larger party awaiting their return. The river was here a fine, broad, deep and tran- quil stream ; trees of many kinds fringed the edge ; beyond was the unbroken forest, whose depths had never been pierced by the step of man — so thick and luxuriant was the vegetation that even the Indian could hardly have pene- trated through its dark swampy glades : far as the eye could reach, that impenetrable inter- minable wall of verdure stretched away into the far off distance. On that spot where our Indian camp then stood, are now pleasant open meadows, with an avenue of fine pines and balsams ; showing on the eminence above, a large substantial dwelling- house surrounded by a luxuriant orchard and garden, the property of a naval officer,* who * Lieut. Rubidge, whose interesting account of his early settlement may be read in a letter inserted in Captain Basil Hall's Letters from Canada. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 279 1 tliey were fine's heart hores of tlie he distance, bend in the md a creek fforded them several tents their return, •ep and tran- fringed the forest, whose y the step of he vegetation y have pene- rlades : far as fetrable inter- id away into In camp then Lows, with an showing on itial dwelling- orchard and officer,* wlio [)unt of his early in Captain Basil with i\Q courage and perseverance that mark brave men of his class, first ventured to break the bush and locate himself and his infant family in the lonely wilderness, then far from any beaten road or the haunts of his fellow-men. But at the period of which I write, the axe of the adventurous settler had not levelled one trunk of that vast forest, neither had the fire scathed it ; no voices of liappy joyous children had rung through those shades, nor sound of rural labour nor bleating flock awakened its echoes. All the remainder of that sad day, Catharine sat on the grass under a shady tree, her eyes mournfully fixed on the slow flowing waters, and wondering at her own hard fate in being thus torn from her home and its dear inmates. Bad as she had thought her separation from her father and mother and her brothers, when she first left her home to become a wanderer on the Rice Lake Plains, how much more dismal now was her situation, snatched from the dear com- panions who had upheld and cheered her on in all her sorrows ! But now she was alone with none to love or cherish or console her, she felt a desolation of spirit that almost made her for- getful of that trust that had hitherto always sustained her in time of trouble or sickness. lit 1 j i mmmm. ! . I 280 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ii I 1 ' I She looked round, and lier eye fell on the strange unseemly forms of men and women, who cared not for her, and to whom she was an objeet of indifference or aversion: she wept when she thought of the grief that her absence would occasion to Hector and Louis ; the thought of their distress increased her own. The soothing quiet of the scene, with the low lulling sound of the little brook as its tiny wave- lets fell tinkling over the massy roots and stones that impeded its course to the river, joined with fatigue and long exposure to the sun and air, caused her at length to fall asleep. The last rosy light of the setting sun was dyeing the waters with a glowing tint when she awoke ; a soft blue haze hung upon the trees ; the king- fishcL* and dragon-fly, and a solitary loon, were the only busy things abroad on the river ; the first Parting up and down from an upturned root near the water's edge, feeding its young- ings ; the dragon-fly hawking with rapid whirring sound for insects, and the loon, just visible from above the surface of the still stream, sailed quietly on companionless, like her who watched its movements. The bustle of the hunters returning with game and fish to the encampment roused many a sleepy brown papoose, the fires were renewed, THE CANADIAN CllUSOES. 281 the strange , wlio cared an object of when sbc scncc would i thouglit of with the low ts tiny wave- »ts and stones , joined with sun and air, ■p. The last s dyeing the 1 she awoke ; I ies ; the king- ,ry loon, were ;he river; the an upturned g its young- [rapid whirring it visible from tream, sailed who watched ^ing with game Used many a rere renewed, and the evening meal was now preparing, — and Catharine, chilled by the falling dew, crept to the enlivening warmth. And here she was pleased at being recognised by one friendly face — it was the mild and benevolent countenance of the widow Snowstorm, who, with her three sons, came to bid her to share their camp fire and food. The kindly grasp of the hand, the beaming smile that was given by this good creature, albeit she was ugly and ill-featured, cheered the sad captive's heart. She had given her a cup of cold water and what food her log- cabin afforded, and in return the good Indian took her to her wigwam and fed., and warmed, and cherished her with the loving-kindness of a Christian ; and during all her sojourn in the Indian camp she was as a tender mother over her, drying her tears and showing her those little acts of attention that even the untaught Indians know are grateful to the sorrowful and destitute. Catharine often forgot her own griefs ; to repay this worthy creature's kindness, by at- • tending to her little babe and assisting her in some of her homely preparations of cookery or household work. She knew that a selfish in- dulgence in sorrow would do her no good, and P after the lapse of some days she so well disci- j plined her own heart as to check her tears, at w 282 THE CANADIAN CilUSOES. I 1 ' least in the presence of the Indian women, and to assume an air of comparative cheerfulness. Once she found Indian words enough to ask the Indian widow to convey her back to the lake, but she shook her head and bade her not tliink anything about it ; and added, that in the fall, when the ducks came to the rice-beds, they should all return, and then if she could obtain leave from the chief, she would restore her to her lodge on the plains ; but signified to her that patience was her only present remedy, and that submission to the will of the chief was her wisest plan. Comforted by this vague promise, Catharine strove to be reconciled to her strange lot, and still stranger companions. She could not help being surprised at the want of curiosity respecting her that was shown by the Indians in the wigwam, when she was brought thither; they appeared to take little notice that a stranger and one so dissimilar to themselves had been introduced into the camp, for before her they asked no questions about her, whatever they might do when she was absent, though they surveved her with silent attention. Catharine learned, by long acquaintance with this people, that an outward manifestation of surprise* is considered a want of etiquette and good * See Appendix L. !S. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 283 I women, and cheerfulness, gli to ask the : to the lake, her not think at in the fall, ce-beds, they i could obtain restore her to unified to her it remedy, and J chief was her vague promise, . to her strange s. She could ,nt of curiosity y the Indians fought thither; that a stranger ves had been lefore her they whatever they though they on. Catharine ith this people, of surprise * 3tte and good breeding, or rather a proof of weakness and childishness. The women, like other females, are certainly less disposed to repress this feel- ing of inquisitivencss than the men, and one of their great sources of amusement, when Catha- rine was among th'im, was examining the dif- ference of texture and colour of lier skin and hair, and holding long consultations over them. Tlie young girl and her mother, those who had paddled the canoe the day she was carried away to the island, showed her much kindness in a quiet way. The young squaw was gi'and- daughter to the old chief, and seemed to be regarded with considerable respect by the rest of the women ; she was a gay lively creature, often laughing, and seemed to enjoy an in- exhaustible fund of good humour. She was mclined to extend her patronage to the young stranger, making her eat out of her own bark dish, and sit beside her on her own mat. She wove a chain of the sweet-scented grass with which the Indians delight in adorning them- selves, likewise in perfuming their lodges with bunches or strewings upon the floor. She took great pains in teaching her how to acquire the proper attitude of sitting, after the fashion of the Eastern nations, which position the Indian women assume when at rest in their wigwams. ) . N • I ,!' ■' 'i 284 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. M * : 1 I I ■fi I A I i' i : I The Indian name of this little damsel signi- fied the Snow-bird. She was, like that lively restless bird, always flitting to and fro from tent to tent, as garrulous and as cheerful too as that mcny little herald of the spring. Once she seemed particularly attracted by Catharine's dress, which she examined with critical minuteness, evincing great surprise at the cut fringes of dressed doeskin with which Indiana had ornamented the border of the short jacket which she had manufactured for Catharine. These fringes she pointed out to the notice of *he women, and even the old chief was called in to examine the dress ; nor did the leggings and mocassins escape their observation. There was something mysterious about her garments. Catharine was at a loss to imagine what caused those deep guttural exclamations, somewhat be- tween a grunt and a groan, that burst from the lips of the Indians, as they one by one examined them with deep attention. These people had recognised in these things the peculiar fashion and handiwork of the young Mohawk girl whom they had exposed to perish by hunger and thirst on Bare Hill, and much their intp^est was excited to know by what means Catharine had become possessed of a dress wrought by the hand of one whom they had numbered with the dead. ,s. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 285 lamscl signi- iQ that lively . fro from tent :ul too as that attracted by xamined with at surprise at in with which Ler of the short 1 for Catharine. the notice of liief was called id the leggings tvation. There her garments. |ne what caused I, somewhat be- burst from the I one examined lese people had leculiar fashion tawk girl whom mger and thirst •est was excited ne had become >y the hand of with the dead. Strange and mysterious did it seem to tliem, and warily did they watch tlic unconscious object of their wonder. The knowledge that she possessed of the lan- guage of her friend Indiana, enabled Catharine to comprehend a great deal of what was said; yet she prudently refrained from speaking in the tongue of one, to whose whole nation she knew these people to be hostile, but she sedulously endeavoured to learn their own peculiar dialect, and in this she succeeded in an incredibly short time, so that she was soon able to express her own wants, and converse a little with the females who were about her. She had noticed that among the tents there was one which stood apart from the rest, and was only visited by the old chief and his grand- daughter, or by the elder women. At first she imagined it was some sick person, or a secret tent set apart for the worship of the Great Spirit; but one day when the chief of the people had gone up the river hunting, and the children were asleep, she perceived the curtain of skins drawn back, and a female of singular and striking beauty appeared standing in the open space in f»;ont. She was habited in a fine tunic of white dresrjed doeskin richly embroidered with coloured beads and stained quills, a full petticoat of dark II I' t' , i I 286 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ' I I ,!J ,.: i' I I' ' ii ! cloth bound with scarlet clcsccndccl to her ancles, leggings fringed with deer-akin knotted witli bands of coloured quills, with richly wrought mocassins on her feet. On her head she wore a coronet of scarlet and black feathers ; her long shining tresses of raven hair descended to her waist, each thick tress confined with a braided band of quills dyed scarlet and blue ; her stature was tall and well-formed ; her large, liquid, dark eye wore an expression so proud and mournful that Catharine felt her own involuntarily fill with tears as she gazed upon this singular being. She would have approached nearer to her, but a spell seemed on her ; she shrunk back timid and abashed beneath that wild melancholy glance. It was she, the Beam of the Morning, the self-made widow of the young Mohawk, whose hand had wrought so fearful a vengeance on the treacherous destroyer of her brother. She stood there, at the tent door, arrayed in her bridal robes, as on the day when she received her death-doomed victim. And when she recalled her fearful deed, shuddering with horror, Catha- rine drew back and shrouded herself within the tent, fearing again to fall under the eye of that terrible woman. She remembered how Indiana had told her that since that fatal marriage-feast she had been kept apart from the rest of tlic to licr ancles, knotted with ^hly wrought A slic wore a crs ; her long ccnded to lier iritli a braided c ; her stature ;e, liquid, dark L and mournful sroluntarily fill this singular ched nearer to he shrunk hack aid melancholy f the Morning, oung Mohawk, ful a vengeance er brother. She arrayed in her jn she received j Ihen she recalled horror, Catha- •self within the the eye of that led how Indiana I marriage-feast the rest of the THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 287 tribe, — she was regarded by her people as a sacred character, a great Medicuw, a female hravc, a being whom they regarded with niyrttcrioii::j reverence. Slie had made this great sacrifice for the good of her nation. Indiana said it was believed among her own folks tliat she had loved the young Mohawk passionately, as a tender woman loves the husband of lier youtli ; yet she had hesitated not to sacrifice liim witli lier own hand. Such was the deed of the Indian heroine — and such were the virtues of the unrcgencrated Greeks and Eomans ! f 1'. ■ " 1 288 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. It \i f 'I if-i| i-i 1) 1 i I I ^'' If 4 CHAPTER XIII. " Now where the wave, with loud unquiet song, Dash'd o'er the rocky channel, froths along, Or where the silver waters soothed to rest, The tree's tall shadow sleeps upon its breast." Coleridge. The Indian camp remained for nearly three weeks on this spot,* and then early one morning the wigwams were all taken down, and the canoes, six in number, proceeded up the river. There was very little variety in the scenery to interest Catharine ; the river still kept its slow flowing course between low shores, thickly clothed with trees, without an opening through which the eye might pierce to form an idea of the country beyond ; not a clearing, not a sight or sound of civilized man was there to be seen or heard ; the darting flight of the wild birds as they flitted across from one side to the other, the tapping of the woodpeckers or shrill cry of the blue jay, was all that was heard, from sunrise to sunset * Nowknownby the name of Cambell town, though there is but one log-house and sojuic pasture fields ; it is a spot long xised as a calling place for the steamer that plies on the Otoanbee, between Gore's Landing on the Rice Lake ami Peterborough, to take in fire-wood. 3. THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. 289 et song, )ilong, rest, breast." Coleridge. r nearly tliree :ly one morning , and the canoes, e river. Tliere jnery to interest Lts slow flowing dy clothed witli h which the eye of the country Lght or sound of ^n or heard ; the as they flitted .ler, the tapping of the hlue jay, Lurise to sunset, Itown, though there [ids; it is a spot long I \y that plies on tliel I the Rice Lake audi on that monotonous voyage. After many hours a decided change was perceived in the current, which ran at a considerable increase of swiftness, so that it required the united energy of both men and women to keep the light vessels from drifting down the river again. They were in the Rapids,* and it was hard work to stem the tide, and keep the upward course of the waters. At length the Rapids were passed, and the weary Indian voyagers rested for a space on the bosom of a small but tranquil lake.f The rising moon shed her silvery light upon the calm waters, and heaven's stars shone down into its quiet depths, as the canoes with their dusky freight parted the glittering rays with their light paddles. As they proceeded onward the banks rose on either side, still fringed with pine, cedar and oaks. At an angle of the lake the banks on either side ran out into two opposite peninsulas, forming a narrow passage or gorge, contracting the lake once more into the appearance of a broad river, much wider from shore to shore * Formerly known as Whitla's Rapids, now the site of he Locks. t The little lake about a mile below Peterborough and above the Locks, formerly girt in by woods of pine and beech and maple, now entirely divested of trees and forming l>art of the suburbs of the town. U f , I % 'l i1; 1 I |:! I J I i |: t 290 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. than any other part they had passed through since they had left the entrance at the Kice Lake. Catharine became interested in the change of scenery, her eye dwelt with delight on the forms of glorious spreading oaks and lofty pines, green cliff-like shores and low wooded islands ; while as they proceeded the sound of rapid flowing waters met her ear, and soon the white and broken eddies mshi .^ along with impetuous course were seen by the light of the moon ; and while she was wondering if the canoes were to stem those rapids, at a signal from the old chief, the little fleet was pushed to shore on a low flat of emerald verdure nearly opposite to the last island.* Here, under the shelter of some beautiful spreading black oaks, the women prepared to set up their wigwams. They had brought the poles and birch-bark covering- from the en- campment below, and soon ixA vas bustle and business ; unloading the canoes, and raising the tents. Even Catharine lent a willing hand to assist the females in bringing up the stores, and sundry baskets containing fruits and other small wares. She then kindly attended to the Indian children, certain dark-skinned babes, who, bound * Over the Otonabee, just between the rapids and the island, a noble and substantial bridge has been built. tin iMI THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 291 througl^ jce Lake, change of the forms nes, green as; while id flowing I white and impetuous moon; and oes were to le old chief, n a low flat to the last le beautiful prepared to brought the om the en- j hustle and d raising the ling hand to ^e stores, and . other small :o the Indian ,, who, hound rapids and the |en built. upon their wooden cradles, were either set up against the trunks of the trees, or swung to some lowly depending branch, there to remain helpless and uncomplaining spectators of the scene. Catharine thought these Indian babes were almost as much to be pitied as herself, only that they were unconscious of their imprisoned state, having from birth been used to no better treat- ment, and moreover they were sure to be re- warded by the tender caresses of living mothers when the season of refreshment and repose arrived ; but she alas ! was friendless and alone, an orphan girl, reft of father, mother, kindred and friends. One Father, one Friend, poor Catharine, thou hadst, even He — the Father of the fatherless. That night when the women and children were sleeping, Catharine stole ,out of the wig- wam, and climbed the precipitous bank beneath the shelter of which the lodges had been erected. 81ie found herself upon a grassy plain, studded with majestic oaks and pines, so beautifully grouped that they might have been planted by the hand of taste upon that velvet turf. It was a delightful contrast to those dense dark forests through which for so many many miles the waters of the Otonabee had flowed on monoto- 'l i; f ' : CI ! mm 292 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I I [fi f :■ ; I i I il I. nously ; uc^*e it was all wild and free, dashing along like a restive steed rejoicing in its liberty, uncurbed and tameless. Yes, here it was beautiful ! Catharine gazed with joy upon the rushing river, and felt her own heart expand as she marked its rapid course, as it bounded murmuring and fretting over its rocky bed. " Happy, glorious waters ! you are not subject to the power of any living creature, no canoe can ascend those surging waves; I would that I too, like thee, were free to pursue my onward way — how soon would I flee away and be at rest ! " Such thoughts perhaps might have passed through the mind of the lonely captive girl, as she sat at the foot of one giant oak, and looked abroad over those moonlit waters, till, oppressed by the overwhelming sense of the utter loneliness of the scene, the timid girl with faltering step hurried down once more to the wigwams, silently crept to the mat where her bed was spread, and soon forgot all her wees and wanderings in deep tranquil sleep. Catharine wondered that the Indians in erect- ing their lodges always seemed to prefer the low, level, and often swampy grounds by the lakes and rivers in preference to the higher and more healthy elevations. So disregardful are they of THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 293 e, dashing its liberty, itine gazed felt her own d course, as ^g over its jrs ! you are ng creature, ig waves; 1 :ee to pursue X flee away jerliaps might of the lonely ; of one giant those moonlit overwhelming the scene, the hurried down ly crept to the nd soon forgot ■ deep trar^quil lidians in erect- preferthelow, ^ hy the lakes Ighe and more f ul are they oV this circumstance, that they do not hesitate to sleep where the ground is saturated with mois- ture. They will then lay a temporary flooring of cedar or any other bark beneath their feet, rather than remove the tent a few feet higher up, where a drier soil may always be found. This either arises from stupidity or indolence, perhaps from both, but it is no doubt the cause of much of the sickness that prevails among them. With his feet stretched to the fire the Indian cares for nothing else when reposing in his wigwam, and it is useless to urge the im- provement that might be made in his comfort ; he listens with a face of apathy, and utters his everlasting guttural, which saves him the trouble of a more rational reply. " Snow-bird " informed Catharine that the lodges would not again be removed for some time, but that the men would hunt and fish, while the squaws pursued their domestic labours. Catharine perceived that the chief of the laborious part of the work fell to the share of the females, who were very much more industrious and active than their husbands ; these, when not out hunting or fishing, were to be seen reposing in easy indolence under the shade of the trees, or before the tent fires, giving themselves little concern about anything that was going on. 1 I ! : t: M ({■ ' ( ft I r ' ! ( ! I. I > n lit r I ';■ 1^ THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. The squaws were gentle, humble, and submis- sive ; they bore without a murmur pain, labour, hunger, and fatigue, and seemed to perform every task with patience and good humour. They made the canoes, , in which the men sometimes assisted them, pitched the tents, con- verted the skins of the animals which the men shot into clothes, cooked the victuals, manu- factured baskets of every kind, wove mats, dyed the quills of the porcupine, sewed the mocassins, and in short performed a thousand tasks which it would be difficult to enumerate. Of the ordinary household work, such as is familiar to European females, they of course knew nothing; they had no linen to wash or iron, no floors to clean, no milking of cows, nor churning of butter. Their carpets were fresh cedar boughs spread upon the ground, and only renewed when they became offensively dirty from the accumulation of fish bones and other offal, which are carelessly flung down during meals. Of furniture they had none, their seat the ground, their table the same, their beds mats or skins of animals, — such were the domestic arrangements of the Indipn camp.* • Much improvement has taken place of late years in the domestic economy of the Indians, and some of their dwellings we clean and neat even for Europeans. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 295 id submis- am, labour, to perform Dd humour, h the men e tents, con- ich the men [uals, manu- wove mats, 3, sewed the i a thousand ► enumerate, rk, such as is ley of course ■n to wash or T of cows, nor houghs spread ed when they accumulation are carelessly Iture they had :ahle the same, ds,— such were Indipn camp.* )f late years in the le of their dwellings In the tent to which Catharine belonged, which was that of the widow and her sons, a greater degree of order and cleanliness prevailed than in any other, for Catharine's natural love of neatness and comfort induced her to strew the floor with fresh cedar or hemlock every day or two, and to sweep round the front of the lodge, removing all unseemly objects from its vicinity. She never failed to wash herself in the river, and arrange her hair with the comb that Louis had made for her; and took great care of the little child, which she kept clean and well fed. She loved this little creature, for it was soft and gentle, meek and playful as a little squirrel, and the Indian mothers all looked with kinder eyes upon the white maiden, for the loving manner in which she tended their children. The heart of woman is seldom cold to those who cherish their offspring, and Catha- rine began to experience the truth, that the exercise of those human charities is equally beneficial to those who give and those that receive ; these things fall upon the heart as dew upon a thirsty soil, giving and creating a blessing. But we will leave Catharine for a short season, among the lodges of the Indians, and return to Hector and Louis. i!:^ nil '!;' i * \ THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ^ ■ r I. If U i/h; •; :■ :i: i -, II ! CHAPTER XIV. " Cold and forsaken, destitute of friends, And all good comforts else, unless some tree Whose speechless charity doth better ours, With which the bitter east-winds made their sport And sang through hourly, hatl invited thee To shelter half a day. Shall she be thus, And I draw in soft slumbers ? " Beaumont and Fletcher. It was near sunset before Hector and his cousin returned on the evening of the eventful day that had found Catharine a prisoner on Long Island. They had met with good success in hunting, and brought home a fine half-grown fawn, fat and in good order. They were sur- prised at finding the fire nearly extinguished, and no Catharine awaiting their return. There, it is true, was the food that she had prepared for them, but she was not to be seen ; sup- posing that she had been tired of waiting for them, and had gone out to gather strawberries, they did not at first feel very anxious, but ate some of the rice and honey, for they were hungry with long fasting; and taking some Indian meal cake in their hands, they went THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 297 ^e tree ours, le their sport id thee ihus, : AND Fletcher. ictor and his f tlie eventful L prisoner on I good success me half-grown liey were sur- extinguished, ■eturn. There, had prepared je seen; sup- of waiting for ■r strawherries, ixious, hut ate for they were L taking some ids, they went out to coU her in, but no trace of her was visible. They now became alarmed, fearing that she had set off by herself to seek them, and had missed lier way home again. They hurried back to the happy valley — slic was not there; to Pine-tree Point — no trace of her there ; to the edge of the mount that over- looked the lake — no, she was not to be seen; night found them still unsuccessful in their search. Sometimes they fancied that she had seated herself beneath some tree and fallen asleep; but no one imagined the true cause, having seen nothing of the Indians. Again they retraced their step.^ back to the house; but they found her not there. They con- tinued their unavailing search, till the moon setting left them in darkness, and they laid down to rest, but not to sleep. The first streak of dawn saw them again hurrying to and fro, calling in vain upon the name of the loved and lost companion of their wanderings. Desolation had fallen upon their house, and the evil which of all others they had most feared, had happened to them. Indiana, whose vigilance was more untiring, jfor she yielded not so easily to grief and despair, now returned with the intelligence that she had discovered the Indian trail, through i; k THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. h ■-■Ai ■ ■< : the big ravine to the hike shore ; she had found the remains of a wreath of oak leaves which had been woven by Catharine, and probably been about her hair; and she had seen the mark of feet, Indian feet, on the soft clay, at the edge of the lake, and the furrowing of the shingles by the pushing off of a canoe. It was evident that she had been taken away from her home by these people. Poor Louis gave way to transports of grief and despair; he knew the wreath, it was such as Catharine often made for herself, and Mathilde, and petite Louise, and Marie; his mother had taught her to make them; they were linked together by the stalks, and formed a sort of leaf chain. The reSiem- brance of many of their joyous days of child hood made Louis weep sorrowful tears for happy days, never to return again; he placed the torn relic in his breast, and sadly turned away to hide his grief from Hector and the Indian girl. Indiana now proposed searching the island for further traces, but advised wariness in sc doing. They saw, however, no smoke noi canoes. The L dians had departed while thej were searching the ravines and flats round Mount Ararat, and the lake told no tales. Th( following day they ventured to land on Lon, Island, and on going to the north side sa ■ lie had found leaves which and prohably seen the mark y, at the edge »f the shingles It was evident rom her home gave way to ; he knew the . often made for Lte Louise, and b her to make jr by the stalks, I. The reSiem- days of child- [l tears for happyl placed the torn turned away to| [the Indian girl, thing the island! wariness in scl no smoke noil ,arted while the5J land flats rounc [d no tales. The ;o land on Lon^ north side sa^ THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 299 evident traces of a temporary ^ encampment having been made. This was all tliey could do, further search was unavailing; as they found no trace of any violence having been com- mitted, they still cherished hopes that no per- sonal harm had been done to the poor captive. It was Indiana's opinion that, though a prisoner, she was unhurt, as the Indians rarely killed women and children, unless roused to do so by some signal act on the part of their enemies, when an exterminating spirit of revenge induced them to kill and spare not; but where no offence had been offered, they were not likely to take the life of an helpless, unoffending female. The Indian is not cruel for the wanton love of blood, but to gratify revenge for some injury done to himself, or to his tribe; but it was difficult to still the terrible apprehensions that haunted the minds of Louis and Hector. They spent much time in searching the northern shores and the distant islands, in the vain hope of finding her, as they still thought the camp might have been moved to the opposite side of the lake. Inconsolable for the loss of their beloved companion. Hector and Louis no longer took interest in what was going on ; they hardly M t> I. 300 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. troubled themselves to weed the Indian corn, in which they had taken such great delight; all now seemed to them flat, stale, and unprolitable ; they wandered listlessly to and fro, silent and sad; the sunshine had departed from their little dwelling; they ate little, and talked less, each seeming absorbed in his own painful reveries. In vain the gentle Indian girl strove to revive their drooping spirits ; they seemed insen- sible to her attentions, and often left her for hours alone. T^ ^y returned one evening about the usual liou ' sunset, and missed their meek, uncomplaining guest from the place she was wont to occupy. They called, but there was none to reply — she too was gone. They hurried to the shore just time enough to see the canoe diminishing to a mere speck upon the waters, in the direction of the mouth of the river; they called to her in accents of despair, to return, but the wind wafted back no sound to their ears, and soon the bark was lost to sight, and they sat them do^ n disconso- lately on the shore. " What is she doing?" said Hector; "this is cruel to abandon us thus." " She has gone up the river, with the hope of bringing us some tidings of Catharine," said Louis. THE CANADIAN CUrftOES. 301 ndian corn, delight; all mprofitablc ; I, silent and fi their little A less, each d reveries, rl strove to eemed insen- left her for vening about missed their a the place ^ called, but was gone, time enough mere speck of the mouth in accents of wafted back the bark was »\N n disconso- ctor; "this is rith the hope tharine," said " How came you to think tliat such is her intention?" *' I heard her say the otlievday thatshe woi>ld go and bring licr back, or dii;." " What ! do you tliink .she would rink tlie vengeance of tlic old chief whose life she attempted to take?" " She is a brave girl; she does not fear pain or death to serve those she loves." " Alas!" said Hector, " she will perish miser- ably and to no avail ; they would not restore our dear sister, even at the sacrifice of Indiana's life." " How can she, unprotected and alone, dare such perils ? Why did she not tell us ? we would have shared her danger." " She feared for our lives more than for her own; that poor Indian girl has a noble heart. I care not now what befals us, we have lost all that made life dear to us," said Louis gloomily, sinking his head between his knees. " Hush, Louis, you are older than I, and ought to bear these trials w4th more courage. It was our own fault, Indiana's leaving us, we left her so much alone to pine after her lost companion; she seemed to think that we did not care for her. Poor Indiana, she must have felt lonely and sad." \i' I ' 1 I 1 ! ■ ; i ■I i , '1^ ! li ff I , i ]'i. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. " I tell you what we will do, Hec. — make a log canoe. I found an old battered one lying on the shore, not far from Pine-tree Point; we have an axe and a tomahawk, — what should hinder us from making one like it?" " True ! we will set about it to morrow." " I wish it were morning, that we might set to work to cut down a good pine for the pur- pose." " As soon as it is done, we will go up the river; anything is better than this dreadful suspense and inaction." The early dawn saw the two cousins busily engaged chopping at a tree of suitable dimen- sions, and they worked hard all that day, and the next, and the next, before the canoe was hollowed out, and then, owing to their inex- perience and the bluntness of their tools, their first attempt proved abortive; it was too heavy at one end, and did not balance well in the water. Louis, who had been quite sure of success, was disheartened; not so Hector. " Do not let us give it up ; my maxim is perseverance ; let us try again, and again — aye ! and a third and a fourth time. I say, never give it up, that is the way to succeed at last." " You have ten times my patience, Hec." THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 303 . — ^make a one lying Point; we hat should 17 jrrow. 5 might set tor the pur- [ go up the lis dreadful usins busily- table dimen- at day, and canoe was their inex- |r tools, their las too heavy well in the of success, ly maxim is I again — aye! r, never give I last." ie, Hec." " Yes ! but you are more ingenious than I, and are excellent at starting an idea." " We are a good pair then for partnership." " We will begin anew; and this time I hope we shall profit by our past blunders." *' Who would imagine that it is now more than a month since we lost Catharine !" " I know it, a long, long, weary month," replied Louis, and he struck his axe sharply into the bark of the pine as he spoke, and remained silent for some minutes. The boys, wearied by chopping down the tree, rested from their work, and sat down on the side of the condemned canoe to resume their con- versation. Suddenly Louis grasped Hector's arm, and pointed to a bark canoe that appeared making for the wc oternmost point of the island. Hector started to his feet, exclaiming, "It is Indiana returned ! " "Nonsense! Lidiana! — it is no such thing. Look you, it is a stout man in a blanket coat." " The Indians ?" asked Hector inquiringly. " I do not think he looks like an Indian; but let us watch. What is he doing ?" " Fishing. See now, he has just caught a fine bass — another — he has great luck -now he is pushing the canoe ashore." " That man does not move like an Indian — i ; i ;! I n H I, :' it 304 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. '•(. : , I r::ll { ■■ .;■■: :'^' hark ! he is whistling. I ought to know that tune. It sounds like the old chanson my father used to sing ;" and Louis, raising his voice, began to sing the words of an old French Cana- dian song, which we mil give in the English as we heard it sung by an old lumberer. " Down by those banks where the pleasant waters flow, Through the wild woods we'll wander, and we'll chase the buffalo. And we'll chase the buffalo." " Hush, Louis ! you will bring the man over to us," said Hector. " The very thing I am trying to do, mon ami. This is our country, and that may be his ; but we are lords here, and two to one — so I think he will not be likely to treat us ill. I am a man now, and so are you, and he is but one, so he must mind how he affronts us," replied Louis laughing. " I wish the old fellow was inclined to be sociable. Hark, if he is not singing now ! aye, and the very chorus of the old song," — and Louis raised his voice to its highest pitch as he re- peated, " Through the wild woods we'll wander, And we'll chase the buffalo — And we'll chase the buffalo." " What a pity I have forgotten the rest of that THE CANADIAN CEUSOES. 305 t i ) know that n my father y his voice, rench Cana- the English erer. raters flo-^, 1 we'll cbaae tlie the man over , do, mon ami. ty he his ; hut -so I think he I am a man ,ut one, so he replied Louis inclined to he ling now ! aye, ;'— and Louis titch as he re- I wander, rest of that dear old song. I used to listen with open ears to it when I was a boy. I never thought to hear it again, and to hear it here of all places in the world!" " Come, let us go on with our work," said Hector, with something like impatience in his voice ; and the strokes of his axe fell once more in regular succession on the log ; hut Louis's eye was still on the mysterious fisher, whom he could discern lounging on the grass and smoking his pipe. " I do not think he sees or hears us," said Louis to himself, " but I think I'll manage to bring him over soon" — and he set himself busily to work to scrape up the loose chips and shavings, and soon began to strike fire with his knife and flint. " What are you about, Louis ?" asked Hector. " Lighting a fire." "It is warm enough without a fire, I am sure." " I know that, but I want to attract the notice of yonder tiresome fisherman." "And perhaps bring a swarm of savages down upon us, who may be lurking in the bushes of the island." " Pooh, pooh ! Hec. : — there are no savages. I am weary of this place — anything is better than this horrible solitude." And Louis fanned X 'M U! !?i i ! i 1 ;l hf i ij : i ! 'i •"-ir:i 1;' ^|..^ % 306 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. the flame into a rapid blaze, and heaped up the light diy branches till it soared up among the bushes. Louis watched the effect ol his fire, and rubbed his hands gleefully as the bark canoe was pushed off from the island, and a few vigorous strokes of the paddle sent it dancing over the surface of the calm lake. Louis waved his cap above his head with a cheer of welcome as the vessel lightly glided into the little cove, near the spot where the boys were chopping, and a stout-framed, weather- beaten man, in a blanket coat, also faded and weather-beaten, with a red worsted sash and worn mocassins, sprung upon one of the tim- bers of Louis's old raft, and gazed with a keen eye upon the lads. Each party silently regarded the other. A few rapid interrogations from the stranger, uttered in the broad patois of the Lower Province, were answered in a mixture of broken French and English by Louis. A change like lightning passed over the face of the old man as he cried out — " Louis Perron, son of my ancient compagnon." " Oui ! oui ! " — with eyes sparkling through tears of joy, Louis threw himself into the broad breast of Jacob Morelle, his father's friend and old lumbering comrade. " Hector, son of la belle Catharine Pen*on," THE CANADIAN ORUSOES. 307 aped up the ) among the ot his fire, as the hark id, and a few it it dancing , head with a Lightly glided rhere the hoys ned, weather- ilso faded and 3ted sash and ^e of the tim- id with a keen lently regarded ations from the )is of the Lower xture of broken 3d over the face " Louis Perron, irkling through into thehroad tier's friend and [harine Penon,'" — and Hector, in his turn, received the attcc- tionate embrace of the warm-hearted old man. " Who would have thought of meeting with the children of my old comrade here at the shore of the Kice Lake ? — oh ! what a joyful meeting ! " Jacob had a hundred questions to ask: Where were their parents ? did they live on the Plains now ? how long was it since they had left the Cold Springs ? were there any more little ones ? and so forth. The boys looked sorrowfully at each other. At last the old man stopped for want of breath, and remarked their sad looks. " What, mes fils, are your parents dead ? Ah well ! I did not think to have outlived them ; but they have not led such healthy lives as old Jacob Morelle - - hunting, fishing, lumbering, trapping, — those are the things to harden a man and make him as tough as a stock-fish — eh ! : mes enfans, is it not so ? Hector then told the old lumberer how long they had been separated from their families, and ^ by what sad accident they had been deprived of I : the society of their beloved sister. When they j] brought their narrative down to the disappear- jance of Catharine, the whole soul of the old I trapper seemed moved — he started from the log ( ! t I ; i I I 1u If. I k :! 'hi ' ;j: 1 1 it '. ■ ! ' TKE CANADIAN CRUSOES. on which they were sitting, and with one of his national asseverat'ons, declared " That la bonne fille should not remain an hour longer than he could help among those savage wretches. Yes, he, her father's old friend, would go up the river ana oring her back in safety, or leave his grey scalp behind him among the wigwams." " It is too late, Jacob, to think of starting to- day," said Hector. " Come home with us, and eat some food, and rest a bit." "No need of that, my son. I have a lot of fish here in the canoe, and there is an old shanty on the island yonder, if it be still standing, — the Trapper's Fort I used to call it some years ago. We will go off to the island and look for it." "No need for that," replied Louis, " for though I can tell you the old place is still in good re- pair, for we used it this very spring as a boil- ing house for our maple sap, yet we have a better place of our own nearer at hand — just two or tliree hundred yards over the brow of yonder hill. So come with us, and you shall have a good supper, and bed to lie upon." " And you have all these, boys ! " said Jacob opening his merry black eyes, as they came in sight of the little log-house and the field of green corn. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 309 li one of his lat la "bonne iger than he tches. Yes, 1 go up the , or leave his vigwams. >f starting to- i with us, and have a lot of an old shanty still standing, . it some years and and look s," for though till in good re- iring as a hoil- ■et we have a at hand— just r the hrow of and you shall e upon." si" said Jacob IS they came in field of green The old man praised the boys for their in- dustry and energy. " Ha ! here is old Wolfe too," as the dog roused himself from the hearth and gave one of his low grumbling growls. He had grown dull and dreamy, and instead of going out as usual with the young hunters, he would lie for hours dozing before the dying embers of the fire. He pined for the loving hand tliat used to pat his sides, and caress his shaggy neck, and pillow his great head upon her lap, or suffer him to put his iiuge paws upon her shoulders, while he licked her hands and face ; jbut she was gone, and the Indian girl was gorte, and the light of the shanty had gone with thera. Old Wolfe seemed dying of sorrow. That evening: as Jacob sat on the three-legged stool, smcking his short Indian pipe, he again would have the whole story of their wanderings over, and the history of all their doings and contrivances. " And how far, mes enfans, do you think you are from the Cold Springs?" " At least twenty miles, perhaps fifty, for it is a long long time now since we left home, three summers ago." ** Well, boys, you must not reckon distance by the time you have been absent," said the old t::l M fi M man. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. " Now I know the distance through the woods, for I have passed through them on the Indian trail, and by my reckoning as the bee flies, it cannot be more than seven or eight miles — no, nor that either." The boys opened their eyes. " Jacob, is this possible ? So near, and yet to ns the distance has been as great as though it were a hundred miles or more." " I tell you what, boys, that is the provoking part of it. I remember when I was out on the 8t. John's, lumbering, missing my comrades, and I was well-nigh starving, when I chanced to come back to the spot where we parted ; and I verily believe I had not been two miles distant the whole eight days that I was moving round and round, and backward and forward, just in a circle, because, d'ye see, I followed the sun, and that led me astray the whole time." " Was that when you well-nigh roasted the bear?" asked Louis, with a sly glance at Hector. " Well, no ; that was another time ; your father was out with me then." And old Jacob, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, settled him- self to recount the adventure of the bear. Hec- tor, who had heard Louis's edition of the roast bear, was almost impatient at being forced to THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 311 hroiigli the lem on the as the "bee eight miles acob, is this the distance B a hundred le provoking IS out on the ly comrades, en I chanced ; parted ; and miles distant rioving round ard, just in a the sun, and I " ti roasted the hy glance at time; your Ind old Jacob, i, settled him- le hear. Hec- of the roast [ing forced to listen to old Jacob's long-winded history, which included about a dozen otlicr stories, all tagged on to this, like links of a lengthened chain ; and was not sorry when tlie old lumberer, taking his red nightcap out of his pocket, at last stretched himself out on a buffalo skin that he liad brought up from the canoe, and soon was soundly sleeping. The morning was yet grey when the old man shook himself from his slumber, which, if not deep, had been loud ; and after having roused up a good fire, which, though the latter end of July, at that dewy liour was not unwelcome, he lighted his pipe, and began broiling a fish on the coals for his breakfast; and was thus engaged when Hector and Louis wakened. " Mes enfans," said Jacob, " I have been turn- ing over in my mind about your sister, and have come to the resolution of going up the river alone without any one to accompany me. I know the Indians ; they arc a suspicious people, they deal much in «>tratagems, and they are apt to expect treachery 'i others. Perhaps they have had some reason ; for the white men have not always kept good faith with them, which I take to be the greater shame, as they have God's laws to guide and teach them to be true and just in their dealing, which the poor benighted heathen have ^ ■ I 'I '■ ■ 1 ■•' :,: ■] : • 'I ■ i; I i i 312 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. not, the more's the pity. Now, d'ye see, if the Indians see two stout lads with me, they will say to themselves, there may Ibe more left behind, skulking in ambush. So, boys, I go to the camp alone ; and, God willing, I will bring back your sister, or die in the attempt. I shall not go single-handed; see, I have here scarlet-cloth, beads, and powder and shot. I carry no fire- water; it is a sin and a shame to tempt these poor wretches to their own destruction; it makes fiends of them at once." It was to no purpose that Hector and Louis passionately besought old Jacob to let them share the dangers of the expedition ; the old man was firm, and would not be moved from his purpose. *' Look you, boys," he said, " if I do not return by the beginning of the rice harvest, you may suppose that evil has befallen me and the girl ; then I woiild advise you to take care for your own safety, for if they do not respect my grey head, neither will they spare your young ones. In such case, make yourselves a good canoe — a dug-out* will do — and go down the lake till you are stopped by the rapids ; f make a portage there ; but as your craft is too weighty to carry far, e'en leave her and chop out another, * Log canoe. f Crook's Rapids. i I j. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 313 ^e sec, if tlic they will say left heliind, ;o to the camp ng back your shall not go scarlet-cloth, carry no fire- npt these poor t makes fiends tor and Louis ) to let them Ltion; the old i moved from " if I do not )Q harvest, you 11 me and the take care for ot respect my •e your young •selves a good go down the pids;t make a is too weighty )p out another, »k's Rapids. and go down to the Falls ;* then, if you do not like to be at any furtlier trouble, you may make out your journey to the Bay f on foot, coasting along the river; there you will fall in with settlers who know old Jacob Morelle — aye, and your two fathers — and they will put you in the way of returning home. If I were to try ever so to put you on the old Indian trail in the woods, though I know it myself right well, you might be lost, and maybe never return homt* again. I leave my traps and my rifle with you ; J shall not need them : if I come back I may claim the things ; if not, they are yours. So now I have said my say, had my talk, as the Indians say. Farewell. But first let us pray to Him who alone can bring this matter to a safe issue." And the old man devoutly kneeled down, and prayed for a blessing on his voyage and on those he was leaving ; and then hastened down to the beach, and the boys, with full hearts, watched the canoe till it was lost to their sight on the w ide waters of the lake. * Heeley's Falls, on the Trent. t Bay Quintd. 1 1 1 i I' ' ,1 > •1 i 1 1 ; i ■ ; > ; f |: II m Jf^ 314 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. CHAPTER XV. " Where wild in woods the lordly saviigo ran." Dryden. What changes a few years make in places ! That spot over which the Indians roved, free of all control, is now a large and wide-spreading town. Those glorious old trees are fast fading away, the memory only of them remains to some of the first settlers, who saw them twenty-five years ago, shadowing the now open market-place ; the fine old oaks have disappeared, but the green emerald turf that they once shaded still remains. The wild rushing river still pours down its resistless spring floods, but its banks have been levelled, and a noble bridge now spans its rapid waters. It has seen the destruction of two log- bridges, but this new, substantial, imposing- structure bids fair to stand from generation to generation. The Indian regards it with stupid Avondcr : he is no mechanic ; his simple canoe of birch bark is his only notion of communication from one shore to another. The towns-people and country settlers view it with pride and satis- ;s. THE CANADIAN CRUflOES. 315 vivgo ran. DRTDE^f. ,ke in places! \ roved, free of vidc-spreading ire fast Ming imains to some im twenty-five market-place ; "but the green 1 still remains, ours down its nks have been spans its rapid on of two log- tial, imposing generation to it with stupid imple canoe of communication e towns-peoph' n-ide and satis- faction, as a means of commerce and agricul- tural advantage. That lonely hill, from which (vatharinc viewed the rapid-flowing river by moonlight, and marvelled at its beauty and its power, is now the Court-house Hill, tlie seat of justice for the district, — a fine, substantial edifice ; its shining roof and pillared portico maybe seen from every approach to the town. That grey village spire, with its gi'oves of oak and pine, how invitingly it stands ! those trees that em- bower it, once formed a covert for the deer. Yonder scattered groups of neat Avhite cottages, each with its garden of flowers and fruit, arc spread over what was once an open plain, thinly planted with poplar, oaks, and pine. See, there is anotlier church ; and nearer, towards the west end of the town, on that flne slope, stands an- other, and another. That sound that falls upon the ear is not the rapids of the river, but the dash of mill wheels and mill dams, worked by tlie waters of that lovely winding brook which lias travelled far through woods and deep forest dingles to yield its tribute to the Otonabee. There is the busy post-office, on the velvet carpet of turf; a few years, yes, even a few years ago, that spot was a grove of trees. The neat log building that stood then alone there, was in- habited by the Government Agent, now Colonel ,!-' : ' I I h u I! 1, I 1 I THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. MacdoDald, and groups of Indians might be seen congregated on the green, or reposing under tlie trees, forming meet subjects for the painter's pencil, for he knew them well, and was kind to them. The Indian only visits the town, once the favourite site for his hunting lodge, to receive his annual government presents, to trade his simple wares of basket and birch-bark work, to bring in his furs, or maybe to sell his fish or venison, and take back such store goods as his intercourse with his white brethren has made him consider necessary to his comforts, to supply wants which have now become indispensable, be- fore undreamed of. He traverses those populous, busy streets, he looks round upon dwellings, and gay clothes, and equipages, and luxuries which he can neither obtain nor imitate ; and feels his spirit lowered — he is no more a people — the tide of intellect has borne him down, and swept his humble wigwam from the earth. He, too, is changing : he now dwells, for the most part, in villages, in houses that cannot be moved away at his will or necessity ; he has become a tiller of the ground, his hunting expeditions are pre- scribed within narrow bounds, the forest is dis- appearing, the white man is everywhere. The Indian must also yield to circumstances; he sub- ES. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 317 miglit be seen ing under tlie tlie painter's d was kind to Dwn, once the Ige, to receive s, to trade his i-hark work, to sell his fish or re goods as his hren has made nforts, to supply dispensable, be- those populous, dwellings, and luxuries which and feels his leople— the tide , and swept his Ih. He, too, is most part, in fc moved away become a tiller iditions are pre- ;he forest is dis- irywhere. Tlie [Stances; he sub- e mits patiently. Perhaps he murmurs in secret ; hut his voice is low, it is not heard ; he has no representative in the senate to take interest in his welfare, to plead in his behalf. He is anxious, too, for the improvement of his race : )t(t gladly listens to the words of life, and sees with joy his children being brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord ; he sees with pride some of his own blood going forth on the mission of love to other distant tribes ; he is proud of being a Christian ; and if there be some that still look hack to the freedom of former years, and talk of " the good old times," when they wandered free as the winds and waters through those giant woods, they are fast fading away. A new race is rising up, and the old hunter will soon become a being unknown in Canada. There is an old gnarled oak that stanils, rr lately stood, on the turfy bank, just behind the old Government-house (as the settlers called it), !^/>king down the precipitous cliff on the river and tfie islands. The Indians called it " the wliite girl's rest," for it was there that Catha- rine delighted to sit, above the noise and bustle of the camp, to sing her snatches of old Scottish songs, or pray the captive exile's prayer, unheard and unseen. The setting sun was casting long shadows of V, , I i! - ! * t I u THE CANADIAN CIIUSOES. oak and weeping elm athwart the waters of the river ; the light dip of the paddle had ceased on the water, the baying of hounds and life-like stirring sounds from the lodges came softened to the listening ear. The hunters had ciaiie in with tlie spoils of a successful chase; th( 'ig- wam fires are flickering and crackling, sending up their liglit columns of tliin blue smoke among the trees ; and now a goodl}/ portion of venisou is roasting on the forked sticks before the fires. Each lodge has its own cooking utensils. That jar embedded in the hot embers contains sassafras tea, an aromatic beverage, in which the squaws deliglit when they are so fortunate as to pro- cure a supply. This has been brought from the Credit, far up in the west, by a family who have come down on a special mission from some great chief to his brethren on the Otonabee, and the squaws have cooked some in honour of the guests. That pot that sends up such a savom*y steam is venison pottage, or soup, or stew, or any name you choose to give the Indian mes.s that is concocted of venison, wild rice, and herbs. Those tired hounds that lay stretched before the fire have been out, and now they enjoy the privilege of the fire, some prai- from the hunters, and receive withal an occa- sional reproof from the squaws, if they approacli THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Araters o£ tlic e had ceased s and life-like :amc softened i had come in .ase; tlu 'ig- ng, sendin- up smoke among )n of venison is efore the fires, utensils. That mtains sassafras ich the squaws nate as to pro- rought from the amily who have from some great onahee, and the honour of the such a savom-y )up, or stew, or he Indian mess wild rice, and at lay stretched and now they re, some prai-' "withal an occa- if they approacli 319 tlieir wishful noses too close to the tempting- viands. The elder hoys are shooting at a mark on yonder hirch-tree ; the girls are playing or rolling on the grass ; " The Snow-bird " i^ seated on the floor of the wigwam braiding a necklace of sweet grass, which she confines in links by means of little bands of coloured quills ; Catharine is working mocassins beside her ; — a dark sliadow falls across her work from the open tent door — an exclamation of surprise and displeasure from one of the women makes Catharine raise her eyes to the doorway ; there, silent, pale, and motionless, the mere shadow of her former self, stands Indiana — a gleam of joy lights for an instant her large lustrous eyes. Amazement and delight at the siglit of her beloved friend for a moment deprives Catharine of the power of '■ech; then terror for the .■>afety of her friend tuKes place of her joy at seeing her. She rises I'Lgardiess of the angry tones of the Indian woman's voice, and throws her arms about Indiana as if to shield her from threatened danger, and sobs her welcome in her arms. " Indiana, dear sister ! how came you hitlier, -nd lor what purjjose?" " To firee you, and tlien die," was the soft ilow tremulous answer. " Follow me." 320 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Catharine, wondering at the calm and fearless manner with which the young Mohawk waved back the dusky matron who approached as if with the design of laying hands upon her unwelcome guest, followed with beating heart till they stood in the entrance of the lodge of the Bald Eagle; it was filled with the hunters, who were stretched on skins on the floor reposing in quiet after the excitement of the chase. The young Mohawk bent her head down and crossed her arms, an attitude of submission, over her breast as she stood in the opening of the lodge ; but she spoke no word till the old chief waving back the men, who starting to their feet were gathering round him as if to shield him from danger, and sternly regarding her, demanded from whence she came and for what purpose. '^ To submit myself to the will of my Ojebwa father," was the meek reply. " May the daughter of the Bald Eagle's enemy speak to her great father?" " Say on," was the brief reply, " the Bald Eagle's ears are open." " The Bald Eagle is a mighty chief, the con queror of his enemies and the father of his people," replied the Mohawk girl, and again was silent. )ES, Im and fearless tlohawk waved )proached as if nds upon her beating heart of the lodge illed with the skins on the 3 excitement of head down and jubmission, over opening of the till the old chief ting to their feet t shield him from her, demanded vhat purpose. 11 of my Ojebwa lay the daughter eak to her gi'eat ply, " the Bald ;y chief, the con- le father of his girl, and again '' V \% ■nrAN4 BKBuuK UFrK nALn .tacu .t THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 321 a The Mohawk squaw speaks well ; let her say on." " The heart of the Mohawk is an open flower, it can be looked upon by the eye of the Great Spirit. She speaks the words of truth. The Ojebwa chief slew his enem^'es, they had done his good heart wrong ; he punished them for the Avrong they wrought ; he left none living in the lodges of his enemies save one young squaw, the daughter of a brave, the grand-daughter of the Black Snake. The Bald Eagle loves even an enemy that is not afraid to raise the war- whoop or fling the tomahawk in battle. The young girl's mother was a hravey She paused, while her proud eye was fixed on the face of her aged auditor. He nodded assent, and she re- sumed, while a flush of emotion kindled her pale cheek and reddened her lips, — " The Bald Eagle brought the lonely one to his lodge, he buried the hatchet and the scalping |i knife, he bade his squaws comfort her ; but her I heart was lonely, she pined for the homes of her I fathers. She said, I will revenge my father, my I mother, and my brothers and sisters ; and her l| heart bunied within her: but her hand was not jstrong to shed blood, the Great Spirit was about |my Ojebwa father; she failed, and would have led, for an arrow was in her flesh. The people of Y I I i ! i ii ;JM il j THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. tlie Bald Eagle took licr, they brought her down the great river to the council hill, they bound her with thongs and left her to die. She prayed, and the Great Spirit heard her prayer and sent her help. The white man came ; his heart was soft ; he unbound her, he gave water to cool her hot lips, he led her to his lodge. The white squaw (and she pointed to Catharine) was there, she bound up her wounds, she laid her on her own bed, she gave her meat and drink, and tended her with love. She taught her to pray to the Good Spirit, and told her to return good for evil, to be true and just, kind and merciful. The hard heart of the young girl became soft as clay when moulded for the potf and she loved her white sister and brothers, and wfXii happy. The Bald Eagle's people came when my white brothers were at peace, the} found a trembling fawn within the lodge, thcj led her away, they left tears and lonelines; where joy and peace had been. The Mohawl; sqiiaw could not see the hearth of her whit brothers desolate; she took the canoe, she cam to the lodge of the great father of his tribe, am she says to him, ' Give back the white squaw ti her home on the Kice Lake, and take in he; stead the rebellious daughter of the Ojebwa' enemy, to die or be his servant ; she fears iiol 3. cil liUl, they (. to die. Slie rd her prayer ,an came; his tie gave water to his lodge. d to Catharine) ninds, she laid her meat and ■e. She taught and told her to , and jviBt, kind )£ the young gn'l' led for the pots, ^nd brothers, andj s people came, at peace, they the lodge, they and loneliness The Mohaw' th of her whiUi canoe, she cam* of his trihe, am Le white squaw tJ and take in hd of the Ojehwa tnt ; she fears H THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. 323 now the knife or the tomaliawk, the arrow or the spear: her life is in the hand of the great chief.'" She sank on lier knees as she spoke these h\st words and bowing down her head on her breast remained motionless as a statue. There was silence for some minutes, and then the old man rose and said : — " Daughter of a brave woman, thou hast spoken long, and thou hast spoken well ; the ears of the Bald Eagle have been open. The white squaw shall be restored to her brother's lodge — but thou rcmainest. 1 have spoken." Catharine in tears cast her arms around her disinterested friend and remained weeping — how could she accept this great sacrifice ? She in her turn pleaded for the life and liberty of the Mohawk, but the cluef turned a cold ear to her passionate and incolxevent pleading. He was weary — he was impatient of further excitement — he coldly motioned to them to withdraw ; and the friends in sadness retired to talk over all that had taken place since that sad day when Cathaiine was taken from her home. While her heart was joyful at the prospect of her own release, it was clouded with fears for the un- certain fate of her beloved friend. *' They will condemn me to a cruel death," ■f-' (l ! I 324 THE CANADIAN CRTTSOES. ■'. ! I ■* 'I (I i I . !| said Indiana, " "but I can siifFer and die for my white sister." That night the Indian girl slept sweetly and tranquilly beside Catharine; but Catharine could not sleep ; she communed with her own heart in the still watches of the night — it seemed as if a new life Jiad been infused within her. She no longer thought and felt as a child ; the energies of her mind had been awakened, ripened into maturity as it were, and suddenly expanded. When all the inmates of the lodges were profoundly sleeping, Catliarine arose, — a sudden tliought liad entered into her mind, and she hesitated not to ])ut her design into execu- tion. There was no moon, but a bright arch of light spanned the forest to the north ; it was mild and soft as moonlight, but less bright, and cast no shadow across her path ; it showed her the sacred tent of the widow of the murdered Mohawk. With noiseless step she lifted aside the curtain of skins that guarded it, and stood at the entrance. Light as was her step, it awakened the sleeper; she raised herself on her arm and looked up with a dreamy and ab- stracted air as Catharine, stretching forth lier hand in tones low and tremulous, thus addressed her in the Ojebwa tongue : — *' The Great Spirit sends me to thee, O wo- THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 325 (lie for my >pt sweetly It Catliariiie til her own 3 night — it fused within it as a child; n awakened, nd suddenly of the lodges ine arose, — a Ler mind, and [n into execu- 3right arch of i; it was mild Ight, and cast owed her the he mm-dered e lifted aside it, and stood her step, it .erself on her imy and ah- ing forth her hus addressed thee, O we- ll man of much sorrow ; he asks of thee a great deed of mercy and goodness. Thou hast shed blood, and lie is angry. He bids thee to save tlie life of an enemy — the blood of thy murdered husband Hows in lier veins. 8ee tliat thou disobey not the words that lie commands." She dropped the curtain and retired as she had come, with noiseless step, and lay down again in the tent beside Indiana. Her heart beat as though it would burst its way through her bosom. What had she done ? — what dared ? She had entered the presence of that terrible woman alone, at the dead hour of night ! she had spoken bold and presumptuous words to that strange being whom even her own people hardly dared to approach uncalled-for ! Sick with terror at the consequences of her temerity, Catharine cast her trembling arms about the sleeping Indian girl, and hiding her head in her bosom, wept and prayed till sleep came over her wearied spirit. It was late when she awoke. She was alone: the lodge was empty. A vague fear seized her : she hastily arose to seek her friend. It was evident that some great event was in preparation. The Indian men had put on the war-paint, and strange and ferocious eyes were glancing from beneath their shaggy locks. A stake was driven in the centre of the cleared I : I , I I \ i '^ ' i " 1 ■■ ■. r 1 1 i i I. • 1 I ; ;j l': i; 326 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. space in front of the cliicf 's lodge : there, bound, she behekl her devoted friend ; pale as ashes, but with a calm unshaken countenance, she stood. There was no sign of woman's fear in her fixed dark eye, which quailed not before the sight of the death-dooming men who stood round her, armed with their terrible weapons of destruction. Her thouglits seemed far away : perhaps they were with her dead kindred, wandering in that happy land to which the Indian hopes to go after life ; or, inspired with the new hope which had been opened to her, she was looking to Him who has promised a crown of life to such as believe in His name. She saw not the look of agony with which Catharine regarded her ; and the poor girl, full of grief, sunk down at the foot of a neighbouring tree, and burying her face between her knees, wept and prayed — oh ! how fervently ! A hope crept to her heart — even while the doom of Indiana seemed darkest— that some good might yet accrue from her visit to the wigwam of the Great Medicine squaw. She knew that the Indians have great belief in omens, and warnings, and spirits, both good and evil; she knew that her mysterious appearance in the tent of the Mohawk's widow would be construed by her into spiritual agency ; and her heart was strengthened by this hope. Yet just now there :fl. ;licrc, bound, as ashes, but c, she stood, in her fixed the sight of I round her, f destruction, perhaps they ering in that hopes to go V hope which )king to Him e to such as t the look of led her ; and down at the ying her face 3d — oh ! how heart — even darkest — that er visit to the w. She knew n omens, and md evil; she ranee in the . be construed her heart was ust now there V.i! INIHANA AT THE STATCR I i ' 1 r I I ■ i -I M I ii I i: !-'l, THE CANADIAN CRUSOi^S. 327 seems lit ;le reason to encourage hope : the war- whoop is given, the war-dance is begun — first slow, and grave, and measured ; now louder, and quicker, and more wild become both sound and movement. But why is it hushed again ? See, a strange canoe appears on the river ; anon an old weather-beaten man, with firm step, appears on the greensward and approaches the area of the lodge. The Bald Eagle greets him with friendly courtesy ; the dance and death-song are hushed ; a treaty is begun. It is for the deliverance of the captives. The chief points to Catharine — she is free : his white brother may take her — she is his. But the Indian law of justice must take its course ; the condemned, who raised her hand against an Ojebwa chief, must die. In vain were the tempting stores of scarlet cloth and beads for the women, with powder and shot, laid before the chief: the arrows of six wamors were fitted to the string, and again the dance and song commenced, as if, like the roll of the drum and clangour of the trumpet, it were necessary to the excitement of strong and power- ful feelings, and the suppression of all tenderer emotions. And now a wild and solemn voice was heard, unearthly in its tones, rising above the yells of if » K . ( ii t I ii • 328 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. those savage men. At that sound every cheek became pale : it struck upon the ear as some funeral wail. Was it the death-song of the captive girl bound to that fearful stake? No; for she stands unmoved, with eyes raised heaven- ward, and lips apart — " In still, but brave despair." Shrouded in a mantle of dark cloth, her long black hair unbound and streaming over her shoulders, appears the Mohawk widow, the daughter of the Ojebwa chief. The gathering throng fall back as she approaches, awed by her sudden appearance among them. She stretches out a hand on which dark stains are visible — it is the blood of her husband, sacrificed by her on that day of fearful deeds : it has never been effaced. In the name of the Great Spirit she claims the captive girl — the last of that devoted tribe — to be delivered over to her will. Her right to this remnant of her murdered husband's family is acknowledged. A knife is placed in her hand, while a deafening yel of triumph bursts fi'om the excited squaws, as this their great high-priestess, as they deemed -icr, advanced to the criminal. But it was not to shed the heart's blood of the Mohawk girl, but to sever the thongs that bound her to the deadly stake, for THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 329 every clieek 3ar as some song of the take? No; ised hcaven- otli, her long ng over lier widow, the 'he gathering , awed "by her She stretches ire visible — it ced hy her on never been lat Spirit she ■ that devoted >r will. Her red husband's is placed in of triumph his their great ', advanced to ed the heart's to sever the idly stake, for which that glittering blade was drawn, and to bid her depart in peace whithersoever she would go. Then, turning to the Bald Eagle, she thus addressed him : " At the dead of night, when the path of light spanned the sky, a vision stood before mine eyes. It came from the Great and Good Spirit, and bade me to set free the last of a murdered race whose sun had gone down in blood shed by my hand and by the hands of my people. The vision told me that if I did this my path should henceforth be peace, and that I should go to the better land and be at rest if I did this good deed." She then laid her hands on the head of the young Mohawk, blessed her, and enveloping herself in the dark man'le, slowly retired back to her solitary tent once more. 330 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. i I! I ■ I ! ,! [ if CHAPTER XVI. " Hame, hame, hame, Hame I soon shall be, Hame, hame, hame, In mine own countrie."- -Scotch Ballad. Cld Jacob and Catharine, who ]'• 1 been mute spectators of the scene so full of interest to tlicm, now presented themselves before the Ojebwa chief, and besought leave to depart. The presents were again laid before him, and this time ^ i graciously accepted. Catharine in distributing the beads and cloth took care that the best portion should fall to the grand-daughter of the chief, the pretty good-humoured Snow- bird. The old man was not insensible to the noble sacrifice wliicli had been made by the devoted Indiana, aiid he signified his forgiv^-ness of her fault by graciously offering to adopt her as his child, and to give her in marriage to one of his grandsons, an eldc^ brother of the Snow- bird; but the young girl mod easily but firmly refused this mark of favour, for her heart yearned for those whose kindness had saved her from death, and who hid taught her to look beyond tin! *hings of this world to a brighter THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 331 otch Ballad. lio 1^' 1 l)ecn ill of interest ■es "before the ve to depart, if ore liim, and . Catharine in pk care that the ;rand-daughter noured Snow- .ensible to the made hy the his forgiv^-ness to adopt her arriage to one ix of the Snov'- ily but firmly for her heart had saved her it her to look to a "brighter ■^i v> a better state of being. She said, " She would go with her white sister, and pray to God to bless her enemies, as the Great Spirit had taught her to do." It seems a lingering principle of good in human nature, that tlie exercise of mercy and virtue opens the heart to the enjoyment of social happiness. The Indians, no longer worked up hy excitement to deeds of violence, seemed disposed to bury the hatchet of hatred, and tlie lodG:e was now filled with mirtli md the voice of gladness, feasting, and danciiig. A covenant of peace and good-will was entered upon by old Jacob and the chief, who bade Catharine tell lier brothers tliat from henceforth they should be free to hunt the deer, fish, or shoot tlie wild fowl of the lake, whenever they desired to do so, " he the Bald Eagle had said so." On the mon'ow, with the first dawn of day, the old tra pper w\is astir ; the canoe w as ready, with fresh cedar boughs strewed at the bottom. A supply of parched rice and dried fish had been presented by the Indian chief for the voyage, that his white brother and the young girls might not suffer from want. At sun-rise the old man ,i led his young charges to the lodge of the Bald jl Eagle, who took a kindly farewell of them. U " The Snow-bird" was sojTOwful, and her brisrht 332 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 1! i II 1 ^ it f !) I I I i i \ • 'I ! laughing eyes were dimmed with tears at parting with Catharine ; she was a gentle loving thing, as soft and playful as the tame fawn that nestled its velvet head against her arm. She did not let Catharine depart without many tokens of her regard, the work of her own hands, — braeelets of porcupine quills cut in fine pieces and strung in fanciful patterns,* mocassins richly wrought, and tiny bark dishes and boxes, such as might have graced a lady's work-table, so rare was their v^orkmanship. Just as they were about to step into the canoe " the Snow-bird" reappeared, bearing a richly worked bark box, " From the Great Medicine," she said in a low voice, " To the daughter of the Mohawk hrave.''^ The box con- tained a fine tunic, soft as a lady's glove, embroi- dered and fringed, and a fillet of scarlet and blue feathers, with the wings and breast of the war- bird, as shoulder ornaments. It was a token of reconciliation and good-will worthy of a generous heart. The young girl pressed the gifts to her bosom and to her lips reverentially, and the hand that brought them to her heart, as she said in her native tongue, " Tell the Great Medicine I kiss her in my heart, and pray that she may have * Appendix M. :s. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 333 ars at parting loving thing, 'u that nestled 3he did not let tokens of her , — bracelets of and strung hi f wrought, and as might have rare was their step into the ired, hearing a •oni the Great ^oice, " To the Tlic hex con- 3 glove, emhroi- scarlet and "blue ast of the war- was a token worthy of a fts to her hosoui . the hand that ihe said in her Medicine I kis;^ she may havc| peace and joy till she departs for the spirit- land." With joyful heart tliey bade adieu to the Indian lodges, and rejoiced in being once more afloat on the bosom of the great river. To (Jatharine the events of the past hours seemed like a strange bewildering dream ; she longed for tlie quiet repose of home ; aiid how gladly did she listen to that kind old man's plans for restoring her brothers and liersclf to the arms of their beloved parents. How often did she say to herself, Oh that I had win^s like a dove, for then would I flee away and be at rest ! — in the shelter of that dear mother's arms wliom she now pined for with a painful yearning of the ]ieart thot might well be called home sickness. But in spite of anxious wishes, the little party were compelled to halt for the night some few miles above the lake. There is on tlie eastern bank of the Otonabee, a pretty rounded knoll, clothed with wild cherries, hawthorns and pine- trees, just where a creek half hidden by alder nnd cranbeiTy bushes, works its way below the shoulder of the little eminence ; this creek giwvs broader and becomes a little stream, tlirough which the hunters sometimes paddle |! their canoes, as a short cut to the lower part of the lake near Crook's Rapids. 1 1 il n . ; . ; k ' i • ■:■] ■«| 334 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. To tliis creek old Jacob steered lils liglit craft, and iDidding tlie girls collect a few dry sticks and Ibranclies for an evening fire on the slieltered side of tlie little Lank, lie soon lighted the pile into a cheerftd blaze by the aid of birch bark, the hunter's tinder — a sort of fungus that is found in the rotten oak and nuijde-trees — and a kniib and flint ; he then lifted the ca' oe, and havin/:, raised Jt on its side, by means of two small stakes which he cut from a bush hard by, ihvn spread down his buffalo robe on the dry grass. " There is a tent fit for a queen to sleep under, mes chbres filles," he said, eyeing liis arrangements for their night shelter with great satisfaction. He then proceeded to bait his line, and in u few minutes had a dish of splendid bass ready for the coals. Catharine selected a large flat block of limestone on which the fish when broiled was laid ; but old Jacob opened his wide mouth and laughed, when she proceeded to lay her bush table with large basswood leaves for platters. Such nicety he professed was unusual on a hunter's table. He was too old a forester to care how his food was dished, so that he had wherewithal to satisfy his hunger. Many were the merry tales he told and the songs he sung, to wile away the time, till the ES. his ligUt craft, dry sticks and the sheltered ighted the x)ik' of hirch bark, Lis that is found s — and a knife jc, and having of two HinnI! I hard l^y, Hjcd the dry grass, uccn to sleep lid, eyeing liirf elter with great s line, and in ii d "bass ready for large flat block len broiled was ide mouth and lay her busli s for platters. unusual on a a forester to that he had told and the le time, till the THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 335 daylight faded from tlie sky, and the deep bhie heavens were studded with briglit stars, wliieh Avcre mirrored in countless hosts deep deep down in that calm waveless river, while thousands of fireflies liglited up the dark recesses of tlie forest's gloom. Iligli in tlie upper air tlie liolhjw booming of tlic nlgiit-liiiw)^ was jieard at intervals, and the wild ery of llic iiiglit-ow) from a dead branch, .'^houting to i^s fellow, woke the silence (;f that lonely river seene. The old trap[//'f stret( hed before the crackling tire, ttinoked his pipe or hunirncd some French voyageiir's song. I^eneath tlie shelter, of the canoe soundly slept fhe two girls ; the dark cheek of the Indian girl pillowed on the arm of her fairer companion, her thick tresses of raven hair mingling with the silken ringlets of the white maiden. They were a lovely pair — one fair as moviung, the other dark as night. How lightly did they spring from their low hed, wakened by the early song of the forest birds ! The light curling mist hung in fleecy volumes upon the river, like a flock of sheep at rest — the tinkling sound of the heavy dew-drops fell in mimic showers uprm the stream. See that red squirrel, how lightly he runs along that fallen trunk — how furtively he glances with his sharp bright eye at the intruders on I I , ( ' i I ' I !• I \ ■II ; i; ■ I I '• ' i .ui 336 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. liis sylvan haunts ! Hark ! tlicrc is a rustling among the leaves — what strange creature works its way to the shore ? A mud turtle — it turns, and now is trotting along the little sandy ridge to some sunny spot, where, half buried, it may lie unseen near the edge of the river. See that musk-rat, how boldly he plunges into the stream, and, with his oarlike tail, stems the current till he gains in safety the sedges on the other side. What gurgling sound is that? — it attracts tlie practised ear of the old hunter. What is that object which floats so steadily down the middle of the stream, and leaves so bright a line in its wake ? — it is a noble stag. Look at the broad chest, with which he breasts the water so gal- lantly ; see how proudly he carries his antlered head ; he has no fear in those lonely solitudes — he has never heard the crack of the hunter's rifle — he heeds not the sharp twang of that bow- string, till the arrow rankles in his neck, and the crimson flood dyes the water around him — he turns, but it is only to present a surer mark for the arrow of the old hunter's bow ; and now the noble beast turns to bay, and the canoe is rapidly launched by the hand of the Indian girl — her eye flashes with the excitement — her whole soul is in the chase — she stands up in the canoe, and THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 337 s a rustling eature works le— it turns, sandy ridge uried, it may river, bee iges into the l1, stems the sedges on tlic it attracts the What is that vn the middle [it a line in its at the broad water so gal- is his antlered ly solitudes — the hunter's |g of that how- neck, and the .und him — he lurer mark for and now the moe is rapidly ian girl— her ler whole soul he canoe, and steers it full upon the wounded buck, while a shower of blows are d(\nlt u})on his head and neck with the paddle. Catliarine buries her face in her liar Is — she cannot bear to look upon the sufferings of the noble animal. She will never make a huntress — her heart is cast in too soft a mould. See they have towed the deer ashore, and Jacob is in nil his glory, — the little squaw is an Indian at heart — see with what expertness she helps the old man ; and now the gi-eat business is completed, and the venison is stowed away at the bottom of the canoe — they wash their hands in the river and come at Catharine's siunmons to eat her breakfast. The sun is now rising high above the pine- trees, the nn»rning mist is also rising and rolling off like a golden veil as it catches those glorious rays — the whole earth seems wakening into new life — the dew has brightened every leaf and washed each tiny flower-cup — the pines and balsams give out their resinous fragrance — the aspens flutter and dance in the morning breeze and return a mimic shower of dew-drops to the stream — the shores become lower and flatter — the trees less lofty and more mossy — the stream expands and wide beds of rushes spread out on either side — what beds of snowy water-lilies — how splendid the rose tint of those perseicarias z ^t^^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // ^ .*V 1.0 III I.I 1.25 liiBM 1 2.5 Ijj "^ mam ■u l&i 12.2 1^ 1^ 1,2.0 WUht m U 116 C Fhotographii Sciences Corpordtion 23 WIST MAIN STMIT WIBSTIR,N.Y. MSM (71«)l/2-4S03 ^^ •^ S> °>. X M.- O ►% 'V 338 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. li' i 1 :i ■ ■'-.■( that glow so brightly in the morning sun — the rushes look like a green meadow, but the treacherous water lies deep below their grassy leaves — the deer delights in these verdant aquatic fields, and see what flocks of red-wings rise from among them as the canoe passes near — ^their bright shoulder-knots glance like flashes of lightning in the sun-beams. This low swampy island, filled with drift- wood, these grey hoary trees, half choked and killed with grey moss and lichens — those strag- gling alders and black ash look melancholy — they are like premature old age, grey-headed youths. That islar.d divides the channel of the river-— the old man takes the nearest, the left hand, and now they are upon the broad Rice Lake, and Catharine wearies her eye to catch the smoke of the shanty rising among the trees — one after another the islands* steal out into view — the capes, and bays, and shores of the northern side are growing less distinct. Yon hollow bay, where the beaver has hidden till now, backed by that bold sweep of hills that look in the distance as if only covered with green ferns, with here and there a tall tree, stateb- as a pine or oak — that is the spot where Louis saw the landing of the Indians — now a rising village — Gores' Land- ing. On yon lofty hill now stands the village THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 339 ig sun — the w, "but the their grassy lese verdant of red-wings 5 passes near :e like flashes 1 with drift- f choked and —those strag- melancholy — grey-headed channel of the ;arest, the left le hroad Bice ye to catch the ig the trees — I out into view of the northern on hollow hay, low, backed hy in the distance ems, with here pine or oak— - the landing of —Gores' Land- ,nds the village church, its white lower rising amongst the trees forms a charming object from the lake, and there a little higher up, no' far from the plank road, now stand pretty rural cottages — one of these belong to the spirited proprietor of the village that bears his name. That taste- ful garden before the white cottage, to the right, is Colonel Brown's, and there are pretty farms and cultivated spots ; but silence and loneliness reigned there at the time of which I write. Where those few dark pines rise above the oak groves like the spires of churches in a crowded city, is Mount Ararat.* The Indian girl steers straight between the islands for that ark of refuge, and Catharine's eyes are dimmed with grateful tears as she pictures to herself the joyful greeting in store for her. In the overflowings of her gladness she seizes the old man's rugged hand and kisses it, and flings her arms about the Indian girl and presses her to her heart, when the canoe has touched the old well-remembered landing place, and she finds herself so ne&r, so very near her lost home. How precious are such moments — how few we have in life — they are created from our very sorrows — without our cares our joys would be less lively ; but we have no time to moralize — Catharine flies with the * Appendix N. 340 THE CANADIAN CEUSOES. • : 1 speed of a young fawn, to climb the steep cliff- like shoulder of that steep bank, and now, out of breath, stands at the threshold of her log- house — how neat and nice it looks compared witli the Indians' tents — the little field of corn is green and flourishing — there is Hector's axe in a newly- cut log — it is high noon — the boys ought to have been there taking their mid-day meal, but the door is shut. Catharine lifts the wooden latch, and steps in — the embers are nearly burned out to a liandful of grey ashes — old Wolfe is not there — all is silent— and Catharine sits down to still the beating of her heart and await the coming up of her slower companions, and glad- dens her mind with the hope that her brother and Louis will soon be home — her eye wanders over every old familiar object — all things seem much as she had left them, only the maize is in the ear and the top feather waves gracefully with the summer breeze — it promises an abun- dant crop ; but that harvest is not to be gathered by the hands of the young planters — it was left to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field — to those humble reapers who sow not, neither do they gather into barns, for theii Heavenly Father feedeth them. While the two girls busied themselves in preparing a fine roasp of venison old Jacob stalked away over the hilla THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 341 IS. he steep cliff- and now, out d of lier log- lotnpared witli >f corn is green ixeinanewly- 3 ought to have r meal, but the J wooden latch, nearly burned )ldWolfeisnot ^e sits down to and await the nions, and glad- that her brother -her eye wanders all things seein the maize is in aves gracefully •omises an ahun- is not to he oung planters — it I and the beasts of ,ers who sow not,! barns, for their While the two! laring a fine roasti ay over the hillsl to search for the boys, and it was not long before he returned with Hector and Louis. I must not tell tales, or I might say what tears of joy were mingled with the rapturous gre itings with which Louis embraced his beloved cousin ; or I might tell that the bright flush that v/armel the dusky cheek of the young Indian, and the light that danced in her soft black eyes, owed its origin to the kiss that was pressed on her red lips by her white brother. Nor will we say whose hand held hers so long in his while Catharine related the noble sacrifice made for her sake, and the perils encountered by the devoted Indiana — whose eyes were moistened with tears as the horrors of that fearful trial were described — or who stole out alone over the hills, and sat him down in the hush and silence of the summer night to think of the acts of heroism displayed by that untaught Indian girl, and to dream a dream of youthful love ; but with these things, my young readers, we have nothing to do. " And now, my children," said old Jacob, looking round the little dwelling, " have you made up your minds to live and die here on the shores of thir. lake, or do you desire again to behold your father's home? Do your young hearts yearn after the hearth of your child- hood?" 342 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. II ■{■ !.: 1-!^ 1. 1. '■:.' 1; "After our fathers' home ! " was Louis's em- phatic reply. " After the home of our child- hood!" was Catharine's earnest answer. Hector's lips echoed his sister's words, while a furtive troubled glance fell upon the orphan stranger; but her timid eye was raised to his young face with a trusting look, as she would have said, "Thy home shall be my home, thy God my God." " Well, mon ami, I believe, if my old memory fails me not, I can strike the Indian trail tliat used to lead to the Cold Springs over the pine hills. It will not be difficult for an old trapper to find his way." *' For my part, I shall not leave this lovely spot without regi-et," said Hector. " It would be a glorious place for a settlement — all that one could desire — hill, and valley, and plain, VtTOod and water. Well, I will try and persuade my father to leave the Cold Springs, and come and settle hereabouts. It would be delightful, would it not, Catharine, especially now we arc friends with the Indians." With their heads full of pleasant schemes for the future, our young folks laid them down that night to rest. In the morning they rose, packed up such portable articles as tliey could manage to carry, and with full hearts sat down 'I :iii' ES. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 343 18 Louis's cm- of our child- iswer. Hector's rliile a furtive 3han stranger; his young face uld have said, , thy God my ny old memory idian trail tliat ;s over the pine : an old tra^iper ave this lovely or. " It would 3ment — all that ley, and plain, ry and persuade •ings, and come d be delightful, lly now we arc leasant schemes laid them down rning they rose, ;s as they could hearts sat down to take their last meal in their home — in that home which had sheltered them so long — and then, with one accord, they knelt down upon its hearth, so soon to he left in loneli- ness, and breathed a prayer to Him who had preserved them thus far in their eventful lives, and then they journeyed forth once more into the wilderness. There was one, however, of their little band they left behind : this was the faithful old dog Wolfe. He had pined during the absence of his mistress, and only a few days before Catharine's return he had crept to the seat she was wont to occupy, and there died. Louis and Hector buried him, not without great regret, beneath tlie group of birch-trees on the brow of the slope near the corn-field. I' i: 344 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 'I, ii' i i n .< I ■If;! i ! CHAPTER XVII. " I will arise, and go to my father." — New Testament. It is the hour of sunsei; ; the sonorous sound of the cattle bells is heard, as they slowly emerge from the steep hill path that leads to Maxwell and Louis Perron's little clearing ; the dark shadows are lengthening that those wood- crowned hills cast over that sunny spot, an oasis in the vast forest desert that man, adventurous, courageous man, has hewed for himself in the wilderness. The little flock are feeding among the blackened stumps of the uncleared chop- ping; those timbers have lain thus untouched for two long years ; the hand was wanting that should have given help in logging and burning them up. The wheat is ripe for the sickle, and the silken beard of the corn is waving like a fair girl's tresses in the evening breeze. The tinkling fall of the cold spring in yonder bank falls sooth- ingly on the ear. Who comes from that low- roofed log cabin to bring in the pitcher of water, that pale, careworn, shadowy figure that slowly moves along the green pasture, as one without hope or joy ; her black hau' is shared with silver, 3. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 345 ew Testament. norous sound they slowly that leads to clearing ; the t those wood- spot, an oasis , adventurous, limself in the jeding among cleared chop- us untouched wanting that J and burning le sickle, and ing like a fair The tinkling nk falls sooth- om that low- tcher of water, :e that slowly s one without ed with silver, her cheek is pale as wax, and her hand is so thin, it looks as though the light might he seen through if she held it towards the sun? It is the heart-broken mother of Catharine and Hector Maxwell. Her heart has been pierced with many sorrows ; she cannot yet forget the children of her love, her first-born girl and boy. Who comes to meet her, and with cheerful voice chides her for the tear that seems ever to be lingering on that pale cheek, — yet the prema- ture furrows on that broad, sunburnt, manly brow speak, too, of inward care ? It is the father of Hector and Catharine. Those two fine, healthy boys, in homespun blouses, that are talking so earnestly, as they lean across the rail fence of the little wheat field, are Kenneth and Donald ; their sickles are on their arms ; they have been reaping. They hear the sudden barking of Bruce and Wallace, the hounds, and turn to see what causes the agitation they display. An old man drawls near ; he has a knapsack on his shoulders, which he casts down on the corner of the stoup ; he is singing a line of an old French ditty ; he raps at the open door. The Highlander bids him welcome, but starts with glad surprise as his hand is grasped by the old trapper. 346 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. I .1 I (, I 1 1 I i I I i " Ha, Jacob Morelle, it is many a weary year since your step turned this way." The tear stood in the eye of the soldier as he spoke. " How is ma chfere mbrc, and the young ones?" asked the old man, in a husky voice — his kind heart was full. " Can you receive me, and those I have with me, for the night ? A spare corner, a shake-down, will do ; we travellers in the bush are no wise nice." " The best we have, and kindly welcome ; it is gude for sacr een to sec you, Jacob. How many are ye in all?" " There are just four, beside myself, — young people ; I found them where they had been long living, on a lonely lake, and I persuaded them to come with me." The strong features of the Highlander worked convulsively, as he drew his faded blue bonnet over his eyes. " Jacob, did ye ken that we lost our eldest bairns, some three summers since?" he faltered, in a broken voice. " The Lord, in his mercy, has restored them to you, Donald, by my hand," said the trapper. " Let me see, let me see my children. To him be the praise and the glory," ejaculated the pious father, raising his bonnet reverently from his head ; " and holy and blessed be his name for ever. I thought not to have seen this day lOES. ny a weary year ly." The tear 3 he spoke, he young ones?" voice — his kind ve me, and those A spare corner, illers in the bush ly welcome ; it is 3ob. How many myself, — young ij had been long persuaded them [ghlander worked ided blue bonnet ) ken that we lost summers since?" I « las restored them said the trapper, lay children. To y," ejaculated the t reverently from ;sed be his name ive seen this day. I II I' !!: ! ri n; I > I i i 1 1 .;|i. KRI'TrilN inilJK THE CANADIAN CRUSOE^. 347 Oh ! Catharine, my clear wife, this joy will kill you." In a moment liis children were enfolded in his arms. It is a mistaken idea that joy kills, it is a life restorer. Could you, my young readers, have seen how quickly the bloom of health began to reappear on the faded cheek of that pale mother, and how soon that dim eye re- gained its bright sparkle, you would have said that joy does not kill. " But where is Louis, dear Louis, our nephew, where is he ? " Louis whose in petuosity was not to be re- strained by the caution of old Jacob, had cleared the log fence at a bound, had hastily embraced his cousins Kenneth and Donald, and in five minutes more had rushed into his father's cottage, and wept his joy in the arms of father, mother, and sisters by turns, before old Jacob had introduced the impatient Hector and Catharine to their father. " But while joy is in our little dwelling, who is this that sits apart upon that stone by the log fence, her face bent sadly down upon her knees, her long raven hair shading her features as with a veil," asked the Highlander Maxwell, pointing as he spoke to the spot where, unnoticed and unsharing in the joyful recognition, sat the poor THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Indian girl. There was no paternal embrace for her, no tender mother's kiss imprinted or that dusky cheek and pensive brow — she vv^as alone and desolate, in the midst of that scene ol gladness. "It is my Indian sister," said Catharine " she also must be your child ; " and Hectoi hurried to Indiana and half leading, half carry- ing the reluctant girl, brought her to his parents and bade them be kind to and cherish the young stranger, to whom they all owed so much. I will not dwell upon the universal joy thai filled that humble dwelling, or tell the delight oi Kenneth and Donald at the return of their losi brother and sister, for my story hurries to a close Time passes on — ^years, long years have gon( by since the return of the lost children to thei] homes, and many changes have those year* effected. The log-houses have fallen to decay— a growth of young pines, a waste of emerah turf with the charred logs that ouce forme( part of the enclosure, now, hardly serve to mar out the old settlement — no trace or record re mains of the first breakers of the bush, anothe race occupy the ground. The traveller as h passes along on that smooth turnpike road ths leads from Coburg to Cold Springs, and froi thence to Gore's Landing, may notice a gree 30ES. laternal embrace ss imprinted on brow — she was ; of that scene of said Catharine, d;" and Hector iding, half carry- her to his parents jherish the young id so much, niversal joy that tell the delight of iturn of their lost hurries to a close. r years have gone children to their Lave those years s fallen to decay- waste of emerald that once formed :dly serve to mark race or record re- the bush, another be traveller as he ;urnpike road that Springs, and from Lay notice a green THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 349 waste by the road-side on either hand, and fancy that thereabouts our Canadian Crusoes' home once stood — he sees the lofty wood-crowned hill, and sees in spring-time, for in summer it is hidden by the luxuriant foliage, the little forest creek, and he may if thirsty, taste of the pure fresh icy water, as it still wells out from a spring in the steep bank, rippling through the little cedar-trough that Louis Perron placed there for the better speed of his mother when filling her water jug. All else is gone. And what wrought the change? — a few words will suffice to tell. Some travelling fur merchants brought the news to Donald Maxwell, that a party of Highlanders had made a settlement above Montreal, and among them were some of his kindred. The old soldier resolved to join them, and it was not hard to prevail upon his brother-in-law to accompany him, for they were all now weary of living so far from their fcilow-men ; and bidding farewell to the little log-houses at Cold Springs, they now journeyed downwards to the new settlement, where they were gladly received, their long experience of the country making their company a most valuable acquisition to the new colonists. Not long after the Maxwells took possession of a gram of land, and cleared and built for i i 1 i: 'I 1,1 ■;«(: !;■; i ' II 350 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. themselves and their family. That year Hector, now a fine industrious young man, presented at the baptismal font as a candidate for baptism, the Indian girl, and then received at the altar his newly baptized bride. As to Catharine and Louis, I am not sufficiently skilled in the laws of their church to tell how the difficulty of nearness of kin was obviated, but they were married on the same day as Hector and Indiana, and lived a happy and prosperous life; and often by their fireside would delight their chil- dren by recounting the history of their wanderings on the Kice Lake Plains. \M JSOES. rhat year Hector, lan, presented at date for baptism, Lved at the altar A.S to Catharine ;ly skilled in the LOW the difficulty id, but they were ictor and Indiana, perous life; and elight their chil- f their wanderings APPENDIX. ,.. i I ll ?' ; u APPENDIX. Appendix k.— Preface. Page vJi. Sarah Campbell, of Windsor, who was lost in llic woods on the 11th of August, 1848, returned to her home on the 31st, having been absent twenty-one days, A friend has sent us a circumstantial account of her wanderings, of llie efforts made in her behalf, and her return home, from which we condense the following statements : — It appears that on the 11th of August, in company with two friends, she went fishing on the north branch of Wind- sor-brook ; and that on jittempting to return she became separated from her companions, who returned to her mother's, the Widow Campbell, expecting to find her at home. Several of her neighbours searched for her during the night, without success. The search was continued during Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, by some fifty or sixty individuals, and although her tracks, and those of a dog [which accompanied her, were discovered, no tidings of the girl were obtained. A general sympathy for the afflicted widow and her lost daughter was excited, and notwithsland- ling the busy season of the year, great numbers from "Wind- Isor and the neighbouring townships of Brompton, Shiptou, [Melbourne, Durham, Oxford, Sherbrooke, Lennoxville, ke, and Dudswell, turned out with provisions and iniple- lents for camping in the woods, in search of the girl, A A 354 APPENDIX. ! ; I I : 1 N ,1 'J ii -1:: f|i|i-|t^ I V i'r. i0 which was kept up without intermission for ahout fourteen days, when it was generally given up, under the impression that she must have died, either from starvation, or the inelemency of the weather, it having rained almost inces- santly for nearly a week of the time. On the 31st her brother returned home from Massachusetts, and with two or three others renewed the search, but returned the second day, and learned to their great joy that the lost one had found her way home the evening previous. On hearing of her return, our correspondent made a visit to Widow Campbell, to hear from her daughter the story of her wanderings. She was found, as might be supposed, in a very weak and exhausted condition, but quite rational, as it seems she had been during the whole pe -iod of her absence. From her story the following particulars were gathered : — When first lost she went directly from home down " Open Brooke," to a meadow, about a mile distant from where she had left her companions,, which she mistook for what is called the " 0.ricfs opening,'" a mile distant in the opposite direction. On Sabbath morning, knowing that she was lost, and having heard that lost persons might be guided by the sun, she undertook to follow the sun during the day. In the morning she directed her steps tov;ards the East, crossed the north Branch, mistaking it for " Open Brooke," and travelled, frequently running, in a r,outh-east direction (her way home was du.. north) seven or eight miles till she came to the great Hay-meadow in Windsor. There she spent Sabbath night, and on Monday morning directed her course to, and thence down, the South Branch in the great Meadow. After this, she appears to have spent her time, except while she was searching for food for herself and dog, in walking and running over the meadow, and up and down the south branch, in search of her home, occasionally wan- dering upon the highlands, and far down towards the junc- APPENDIX. ^nn 'or about fourteen ler the impression starvation, or the ined ahnost inccs- Ou the 31st her tts, and with two etunied the second the lost one had s. ndent made a visit daughter the story night be supposed, but quite rational, hole pe -iod of her g particulars were from home down I mile distant from 2h she mistook for mile distant in the ;, knowing that slie persons might be \o\v the sun during I her steps tov;ards iking it for " Open Ing, in a r,outh-east |h) seven or eight jadow in "Windsor. Monday morning [the South Branch her time, except srself and dog, in and up and down occasionally wan- to wards the junc- tion of the two main streams, never being more than seven or eigiit miles from home. For several days, by attempting to follow (he sun, she travelled in a circle, finding herself at night near the place where she left in the morning. Although she o .'ten came across the tracks of large parties of men, and their recently- erected camps, and knew that multitudes cf people were in search of her, she saw no living person, and heard no sound of trumpet, or other noise, except the report of a gun, as she lay by a brook, early on Tiiursday morning, the sixth day of her being lost. Thinking the gun to have l)cen fired not more tlian half a mile distant, she said sii? " screamed and run " to the place from whence she supposed the noise came, but found nothing. Early in the day, however, she came to the camp where this gun was fired, but not until after its occupants had left to renew their search for her. This camp was about four miles from the great meadow, where she spent the Sabbath previous. There she found a fire, dried her clothes, and found a pcrtridge's gizzard, which she cooked and ate, and laid down and slept, remaining about twenty-four hours. In her travels she came across several other camps, some of which she visited several times, particularly one where she found names cut upon trees, and another in which was a piece of white paper. Except three or four night s spent in these camps, she slept upon the ground, sometimes making a bed of moss, and endeavouring to shelter herself from the drenching rains with spruce boughs. For the two lirst weeks she sufi'ered much from the cold, shivering all night, and sleeping but little. The last week she said she had got "toughened," and did not shiver. When first lest she had a large trout, which was the only food she ate, except choke-berries, the first week, and part of this she gave to her dog, which remained with her for a week, day aud night. The cherries, which she ate greedily, swallow- ing the stones, she found injured her health ; and for the 356 APPENDIX. i i; H I "i I I !|..:i| ■ MiM;^ :iiM ft last two weeks she lived upon cranberries and wood sorrel. While the dog remained with her, she constantly shared her food with him, but said she was glad when he left her, as it was mueii trouble to fmd Jiim food. On Thursday of last week she followed the south towards the junction with the north branch, where it appeared she had been before, but could not ford the stream ; and in the afternoon of Friday crossed the north, a little above its junction with the south branch, and following down tlio stream, she found herself in the clearing, near Moor's Mill. Thence directing her steps towards home, she reached Mr. M'Dale's, about a mile from her mother's, at six o'clock, having walked five miles in two hours, and probably ten miles during the day. Here she remained till the next dav, when she was carried home, and was received by friends almost as one raised from the dead. Her feet and ankles were very nmeli swollen and lacerated ; but strange to say, lier calico gown was kept whole, with the exception of two small rents. Respecting her feelings during her fast in the wilderness, she says she was never frightened, though sometimes, when the sun disappeared, she felt disheartened, expecting to perish ; but when she found, by not discovering any new tracks, that the people had given over searching for her, slic was greatly discouraged. On the morning of Friday, she was strongly inclined to give up, and lie down and die ; but the hope of seeing her mother stimulated her to make one more effort to reach home, which proved successful. When visited, she was in a state of feverish excitement and gene- ral derangement of the system, and greatly emaciated, witli a feeble voice, but perfectly sane and collected. It is somewhat remarkable that a young girl (aged seven- teen), thinly clad, could have survived twenty-one days, exposed as she was to such severe storms, with no other food but wild berries. It is also very strange that she should have been so frequently on the tracks of those in APPENDIX. 357 ics anil wood sorrel, onstantly shaved her vvhcu he left her, as 3d the south towards licre it appeared she I stream ; and in the I, a little above its following down the ^, near Moor's Mill. mc, she reaehcd Mr. ler's, at six o'clock, ■s, and probably ten lied till the next day, received by friends Her feet and ankles ; but strange to say, }\e exception of two ist in the wilderness, gli sometimes, when ened, expecting io iscovering any new earching for her, she rning of Friday, she e down and die ; but ,ed her to make one successful. When citement and gene- atly emaciated, with dlected. ng girl (aged seven- twenty-one days, >rms, with no other strange that slic tracks of those in search of her, sleeping in the camps, aiil endeavouring to follow their tracks hotno, and -,t liavo hoard any of their numerous trumpets, or been seen by any of the hundreds of {)crsons who were in search for her. A more dismal result than the deprivations endured by Sarah Campbell, is ic frightful existence of a human creature, called in the American pajjcrs, tiio " ^\'ild Man of the far West." Erom time to time, these details ap- proach the terrific, of wild men who have grown up from childhood in a state of destitution in the interminable forests, especially of this one, who, for nearly a cpiarter of a century, has occasionally been seen, and then cither lor- goltcn, or supposed to be the mere creation of the beholder's brain. But it appears that he was, in March, 1850, en- countered by Mr. Hamilton, of Greene County, Arkansas, when hunting. Tiic wild man was, likewise, chasing his ])rcy. A herd of cattle fled past Mr. Hamilton and his ])arty, in an agony of terror, pursued by a giant, bearing a dreadful semblance to Immanity. His face and shoidders were enveloped with long streaming liair, his body was entirely hirsute, his progression was by great jumps of twelve or thirteen feet at a leap. The creature turned and gazed earnestly on the hunters, and fled into the depths of the forest, where he was lost to view. His foot-prints were thirteen inches long. Mr. Hamilton published the description of the savage man in the MempJiis Inquirer. Afterwards several planters deposed to having, at times, for nuiny years, seen this appearance. All persons generally agreed that it was a child that had been lost in the woods, at the earthquake in 1811, now grown to meridian strength, in a solitary state. Thus the possibility of an European child living, even unassisted, in the wilderness, is familiar to the inhabitants of the vast American continent. Although we doubt that any human creature would progress by leaps, instead of the paces familiar to the human instinct. It is probable that the I'ii 358 ArrENDix. wild man of the Arkansas is, in reality, some species c the oran-outang, or chimpanzee. Appendix B. Page 72.—" ichere Wolf Tower now stanch:' The Wolf Tower is among the very few structures ii Canada not devoted to purposes of strict utility. It wa built by a gentleman of property as a belle vuc, or fancifu prospect residence, in order to divert his mind froi .. uk heavy pressure of family affliction. It was once lent b; him to the author, who dwelt here some time during tlu preparation of another house in the district. Page 113.—" Appendix C. . . . as civilization achances." Formerly the Rice Lake Plains abounded in dee wolves, bears, raccoons, wolverines, foxes, and wild animah of many kinds. Even a few years ago, and bears anc wolves were not unfrequent in their depredations ; and th( ravines sheltered herds of deer ; but now the sight of the former is a thing of rare occurrence, and the deer an scarcely to be seen, so changed is this lovely wilderness that green pastures and yellow cornQelds now meet the eye on every side, and the wild beasts retire to the less fre- quented depths of the forest. From the undulating surface, the alternations of higL hills, deep valleys, and level table-lands, with the wide pro spect they command, the Rice Lake Plains still retain the picturesque beauty, which cannot be marred by the iiand of the settler even be he ever so devoid of taste ; and many u APPENDIX. 359 ity, some species of of those who have chosen it as tlieir home arc persons of taste and refinement, who delight in adding to the beauty of that wliich Nature had left so fair, 7101V stands'' L'y few structures in trict utility. It was belle vtie, or fanciful t his mind froi.. uic It was once lent by omc time during the listrict. Hon adcances'* abounded in deer )xes, and wild animals ago, and bears and lepredations ; and the now the sight of the 36, and the deer arc |his lovely wilderness, aids now meet the eye letire to the less fre- alternations of high Is, with the wide pro- I'lains still retain their marred by the hand Id of taste ; and many Appendix D, Page 157, noie. " I will now," says our Indian historian, " nnrratc a single circumstance which will convey a correct idea of the sufferings to which Indians were often exposed. To obtain furs of different kinds for the traders, wc luid to travel fur into the woods, and remain there the whole winter. Once we left Rice Lake in the fall, and ascended the river in canoes as far as Belmont Lake. There were five families about to hunt with my father on his ground. The winter began to set in, and the river having frozen over, we left the canoes, the dried venison, the beaver, and some flour and pork ; and when we had gone further norths say about sixty miles from the white settlements, for the purpose of hunt- ing, the snow fell for five days in succession, to such a depth, that it was impossible to shoot or trap anything ; our provisions were exhausted, and we had no means of procuring any more. Y. ..c we were, the snow about five feet deep, our wigwam buncd, the branches of the trees faUing all about us, and cracking with the weight of the snow. " Our mother (who seems, by-the-bye, from the record of her son, to have been a most excellent woman) boiled birch- bark for my sister and myself, that we might not starve. On the seventh day some of us were so weak they could not guard themselves, and others could not stand alone. They could only crawl in and out of the wigwam. We parched beaver skins and old mocassins for food. On the ninth day none of the men could go abroad except my 3G0 APPENDIX. a I I L ;}! ,, 1 failior mid uncle. On tlic tenth tiny, still bcinj* n'illioi 1*00(1, tlio only ones able to walk about il:c wigwam wci my father, niy grandmother, my sister, and myself. O how distressing to sec the starving Indians lying about wigwam with hungry and eager looks ! — the ehildren woid ery for sonuithing to eat ! ^[y poor mother would heav bitter sighs of despair, the tears falling profusely from h( cheeks as she kissed us! Wood, though in plenty, coul not be obtained on account of the feebleness of our limb My father would at times draw near the fire and rehears some prayer to the gods. It a])pcarcd to him that ther was no way of esca))e ; the men, women, and ehildrei dyii'.g ; some of them were speechless, the wigwam wa cold and dark, and covered with snow ! " On the eleventh day, just before daylight, my fathc fell into a sleep ; he soon awoke, and said to me : ' My soi the good Spirit is about to bless us this night; in m dream I saw a person coming from the cast walking on th tops of the trees ; he told me we should obtain two beaver about nine o'clock. Put on your mocassins, and go alon, with mc to the river, and wo will hunt beaver, perhaps for the last time.' I saw that his countenance beame with delight and hope ; he was full of confidence. I put o my mocassins and carried my suow-shocp, staggering alon behind him about half a mile. Having made a fire nea the river, where there was an air-hole through which th beaver had come up during the night, my father tied a gu to a stump with the muzzle towards the air-hole ; he als tied a string to the trigger, and said, 'Should you "see th beaver rise pull the string, and you will kill it.' I stood b the fire, with the string in my hand ; I soon heard the nois occasioned by the blow of his tomahawk ; he had killed beaver and brought it to me. As he laid it down, he saic ' Then the great Spirit will not let us die here ;' adding, a before, ' if you see the beaver rise, pull the string ;' and h left me. I soon saw the nose of one, but I did not shoot API'ICNDIX. 301 •, still bcinj? n-illiout ut ll:c wigwam were ;r, and myself. Oli, diaiis lyincTHboiit llio !— tlic diihlron would mother would heave g profusely from her ough ill plenty, could >l)leness of our limbs, the fire and rehearse red to him that there ivomen, and children, ess, the wigwam was v\ re daylight, my father said to me : ' ^ly son, us this night; in my ic east walking on the dd obtain two beavers ocassins, and go along liunt beaver, perhaps, countenance beamed confidence. I put on ,hoep, staggering along ivinc: made a fire near lie through which the my father tied a gun the air-hole ; he also 1, * Should you see the ill kill it.' I stood by I soon heard the noise awk ; he had killed a laid it down, he said, die here ;' adding, as .11 the string ;' and he but I did not shoot. Presently, another came up; I pulled the trigger, ai:d oil' the gun went. I could not see for some moments for the smoke. My father ran towards me with the two beavers, and laid them side by side; then, pointing to the sun, — * Do you see the sun ?' he said ; ' the great Spirit infornu-d me that wc should kill these two about this time in the morning. We will yet see our relatives at Kiee Jjakc. Now let us go home, and sec if our people are yet alive.' AVe arrived just in time to save them from death. Since which we have visited the same spot the year the niission- aries came among us. " !My father knelt down, with feelings of gratitude, on the very spot where wc had nearly perished. (Jlory to (iod ! 1 have heard of many who have perished in this way far up in the woods." — Lf/h of Gcoir/c Copfnn/, writ fen hi/ liihtsclj] p. -11. ArrKNDix E. Page 18 i.—" . oif first dccidinfj that it was a canoe." The Indians say, that before their fathers had tools of iron and steel in common use, a war canos was the labour ^' three generations. It was hollowed out by means of nre, cautiously applied, or by stone hatchets ; but so slowly did the work proceed, that years were passed in its excavation. AVhen com})lcted, it was regarded as a great achievement, and its launching on the waters of the lake or river was celebrated by feasting and dancing. The artizans were venerated as great patriots. Possibly the birch-bark canoe was of older date, as being more easily constructed, and needing not the assistance of the axe in forming it ; but it was too frail to be used in war, or in long voyages, being liable to injuries. The black stone wedges, so often found on the borders of our inland waters, were used by the Indians in skinning -1^ :i i I i I i ,1 ij :}i i I !• 1 1 f- ■> I Vi! *i ' f !' ) i ^l' I t. i 1 i ■ i • ' ! 1 4 ' 362 APPENDIX. the deer and bear. Their arrow-heads were of white! blaok flint, rudely chipped into shape, and inserted ii cleft stick. A larger sort were used for killing deer ; blunt wooden ones were used by the children, for shooti| birds and small game. Appendix F. Page 195. — '' . . . t/te Christian mind revolts icith JiorroA There is, according to the native author, George Copwii a strong feeling in the Indians for conversion and civili/i tion, and a concentration of all the Christianised tribes, nc scattered far and wide along the northern banks of the lak and rivers, into one nation, to be called by one name, ai united in one purpose — their general improvement. \ this end, one of the most influential of their chiefs, Jol Jones, of Dover Sound, offered to give up to his Indit brethren, free of all cost, a large tract of uncedcd lam that they might be gathered together as one nation. In the council held at Sangeeny, where were convene Indian chiefs from lakes St. Clare, Samcoe, Huron, Ontarii and Rice, and other lakes, it was proposed to devise a pla by which the tract owned by the Sangeenys could be he] for the benefit of the Ojebwas, to petition Government f( aid in establishing a manual-labour school, and to ascertai the general feeling of the chiefs in relation to forming or large settlement at Owen's Sound. At this meetius: fort (J O A eight chiefs were assembled. There is much to admire in the simple, earnest, an courteous style of the oration delivered by Chief John Jone and >vill give to my readers some idea of the intelligence ( an educated Indian : — " Brothers, you have been called from all your parts ( Canada, even from the north of Georgian Bay. You ai from your homes, your wives, and your children. We migl APPENDIX. 363 ads were of white or )e, and inserted in a I for killing deer; and children, for shooting id molts with horrorP uthor, George Copway, jonversiou and civiliza- hristianised tribes, now lorn banks of the lakes lUed by one name, and ral improvement. To l1 of their chiefs, John give up to his Indian raet of unceded land, as one nation, where were convened mcoe, Huron, Ontario, )posed to devise a plan geenys could be held ition Government for ;hool, and to ascertain elation to forming one A-t this meeting forty- simple, earnest, and 1 by Chief John Jones, of the intelligence of rom all your parts of " rgian Bay. You are children. We might 1 regret this, were it not for the circumstances that require vou here. " Fellow-chiefs and brotliers, I have pondered with deep solicitude our present condition and the future welfare of our children, as well as of ourselves. I have studied deeply and anxiously, in order to arrive at a true knowledge of the proper course to be pursued to secure to us and our descendants, and even to those around us, the greatest amount of peace, health, happiness, and usefulness. The interests of the Ojebwas and Ottawas are near and dear to my heart ; for them I have often passed sleepless nights, and have suffered from an agitated mind. These nations, I am proud to say, are my brothers, many of them bone of my bone ; and for them, if needs be, I would willingly sacri- fice anything. Brothers, you see my heart." [Here he held out a piece of white paper, emblematical of a pure lieart.] •' Fellow-chiefs and warriors, I have looked over your wigwams throughout Canada, and have come to the con- clusion that you are in a warm place [queri/, too hot to hold you]. The whites are kindling fires all round you [i.e. clearing land]. " One purpose for which you have been called together, is to devise some plan by which we can live together, and become a happy people ; so that our dying fires may not go out, i.e. our people become extinct, but may be kindled, and burn brightly, in one place. We now offer you any por- tion of the land we own in this region, that we may smoke the pipe of peace, and live and die together, and see our children play and be reared on the same spot. ^\''c ask no money of you. We love you ; and because we love you, and feel for you, we propose this. " My chiefs, brotliers, warriors. This morning " [the speaker now pointed with his finger towards the heavens], " look up and see the blue sky: there are no clouds ; the sun is bright and clear. Our fathers taught us, that when the 364 APPENDIX. 17\. ii $ :l3 j-i i '■ I*! Si i; . I Hi I : W sky was without clouds, the Great Spirit was smiling them. May lie now preside over us, that we may mj long, smooth, and straight path for our children. It is I seldom see you all, but this morning I shake hands you all, in my heart. " Brothers, this is all I have to sav," Appendix G. Page 213. — " . . . and aimed a knife at his throat. The period at which these events are said to occurred was some sixty or eighty years ago, accordin; the imperfect chronology of m^ informant. At first, 1 sitatcd to believe that such horrible deeds as those recoi could have taken place almost within the memory of i My Indian narrator replied — " Indians, no Christian! those days, do worse than that very few years ago, — d^ bad now in far-west." The conversion of the llicc Lake Indians, and gathering them together in villages, took place, I think the year 1S25, or thereabouts. The conversion was effe( by the preaching of missionaries from the Weslcyan '. thodist Church ; the village was under the patronage Captain Anderson, whose descendants inherit much 1 on the north shore on and about Anderson's Point, renowned site of the great battle. Tiie war-weapon bones of the enemies the Ojebwas are still to be foum this vicinity. Page 232. Appendix II. -" This place she called Spooke Island^ Spooke Island. A singular and barren island in the I Lake, seventh from the head of the lake, on which Indians used formerly to bury their dead, for many y^ held as a sacred spot, and only approached with revere: APPENDIX. 365 Spirit was sniiling upon IS, that we may make a our cliilclren. It is true iiliiEC I shake hands with 5av." y. I knife at his throat." ;ents are said to have years ago, according to formant. At first, I he- ! deeds as those recorded \\\\\ the memory of men. ndians, no Christians in ry few years ago, — do as Lake Indians, and the J, took place, I think, in conversion was effected from the AVesleyan Me- undcr the patronage of ants inherit much land Anderson's Point, the The war-weapon and are still to be found in I. lied Spooke Island." )arren island in the Rice the lake, on which the Ir dead, for many years broached with reverence. Now famous tor two things, picnics and poison icy, rhiis toxicodendron, — many persons having suft'ered for their temerity in landing upon it and making it the seoio of their rural festivities. Appendix I. Page 253, — " and nothinrj hut fire" The Indians call the Ilicc Lake, in allusion to the rapidity with which fires run over the dry herbage, the Lake of the Burning Plains. Certainly, there is much poetical fitness and beauty in many of the Indian names, ap})roximating very closely to the figurative imagery of the langnage of the East ; such is " Mad-wa-osh," the music of the winds. Appendix K. Page 272. — " hid it was not so in the days wlcreof I have spoken." From George Copway's Life. Converted Indians are thus described in the " Life " of their literary countryman, George Copway : — Chippetcas of the River Credit. — These Indians are the remnant of a tribe which formerly possessed a considerable portion of the Elome and Gore Districts, of which, in 1818, they surrendered the greater part for an annuity of 532/. lO^. reserving only certain small tracts at the River Credit ; and at sixteen and twelve miles creeks they were the first tribe converted to Christianity. Previous to the year 1823 they were wandering pagans. In that year Peter Jones, and John his brother, the sons of a white by a mis- sissaga woman, having been converted to Christianity, and admitted as membv.s of the Wesleyan Methodist Cliurch, became anxious to redeem their countrymen from their 366 APPENDIX. •'S ^: I (IcjjradcJ state of heathenism and spiritual destitut^ Tlicy collected a considerable number together, and rote and frequent repetitions, taught the first principles Christianity to such as were too old to learn to read, with the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, and CommandmenI were tiius committed to memory. As soon as tlie trit were converted they perceived the evils attendant on th| former state of ignorance and vagrancy. Tliey began work, whieii tliey had never done before ; they recognisl the advantage of cultivating the soil ; they gave up drin ing, to which they liad been greatly addicted, and bccan sober, consistent, industrious Christians. J. Sawyer, P. Jones, Chiefs ; J. Jones, War-chief. The Chippetcas of Alnwick were converted in 182G They were wandering pagans, in the neighbourhood Belleville, Kingston, and Gannoyne, commonly known Mississagas of the Bay of Quinte; they resided on Gray Island, in the Bay of Quinte, six miles from Bellevilh They resided eleven years on the island, subsisting b; hunting and agriculture. Tlieir houses were erected parti by their own labour and by the Wesleyan Missionar; funds; these consist of twenty-three liouses, acommodiou chapel and school, an infant school, hospital, smithy, shoe maker's shop and joiner's. There are upwards of 300 o these Indians. The chiefs arc — Sunday; Simpson; G. Corrego, chief an( missionary interpreter. Rice Lake Chippetcas. — In 1818 the greater part of thi 'N'cwcastlc and Colburn districts wcro surrendered, foi ai annuity of 940/. These Indians have all been reclaimei from their wandering life, and settled in their present loca tions, within the last ten or twelve years.* The settlemen * I think G. Copway is incorrect as to the date of the settling of th village, as It was pointed out to me in 1832. Note, — In the year 182 the larger part of the Indian village on Anderson's Point was built am cultivated. spiritual destitution. )er together, and by the first principles of to learn to read, and and Commandments, As soon as tlie tribes ^'ils attendant on their mcy. They began to ifore ; they recognised ; they gave up drink- addicted, and became ans. r. Jones, War-chief, converted in 182G-7 the neighbourhood of , commonly known as they resided on Grape miles from Belleville, island, subsisting by cs -were erected partly VVcsleyan Missionary lOuses, a commodious ospital, smithy, shoe- Ire upwards of 300 of |G. Corrego, chief and greater part of the surrendered, foi an all been reclaimed [n their present loca- ls.* The settlement late of the settling of the iNote, — In tlie year 1822 Ill's Point was built and APPENDIX. 367 3 J is on the north side of the lake, twelve miles from Peter- borough. Number of Indians, 114 ; possessing 1,550 acres, subdivided in 50-acre lots. Chiefs — Pondash, Copway, Crow. Deer were plenty a few years ago, but now only few can be found. Tlie Ojebwas are at present employed in farming instead of hunting ; many of them liave good and well-cultivated farms ; they not only raise grain enough for their own use, but often sell much to the whites. Appendix L. Page 282. — ". . . that an outward manifestation of surprise.^^ A young friend, who was familiar with Indian character from frequent intercourse with them in his hunting expe- ditions, ppeaking of their apparent absence of curiosity, told me that, with a view to test it, he wound up a musical snuff-box, and placed it on a table in a room where several Indian hunters and their squaws were standing together, and narrowly watched their countenances, but they evinced no sort of surprise by look or gesture, remaining apatheti- cally unmoved. He retired to an adjoining room, where, unseen, he could notice what passed, and was amused at perceiving, that the instant they imagined themselves free from his surveillance, the whole party mustered round the mysterious toy like a parcel of bees, and appeared to be full of conjecture and amazement, but they did not choose to be entrapped into showing surprise. This perfect com- mand over the muscles of the face, and the glance of the eye, is one of the remarkable traits in the Indian character. The expression of the Indian face, if I may use so para- doxical a term, consists in a want of expression — like the stillness of dark deep water, beneath wliich no object is visible. ! 1 3G8 hi .u ■I' !|| 1 ri (f it j ii • li . ■ i I APPENDIX. Appendix M. Page 332.- -" bracelets of jiorc^iphie quills cut in fine 2 and strung in fanciful patterns ^^ The Indian method of drawing out patterns on the bark, is simply scratching the outline with some si pointed instrument, Canadian thorn, a bodkin of bone, sharp nail. These outlines are then pierced with par rows of holes, into which the ends of the porcupine q are inserted, forming a rich sort of embroidery on the face of the bark. The Indian artistes have about as much notion of spective, or the effects of light and shade, as the Chines our own early painters ; their attempts at delineating mals, or birds, are flat, sharp, and angular ; and their grc of flowers and trees not more graceful or natural than tl on a china plate or jar ; nevertheless, the effect produce rich and striking, from the vivid colours and the variet; dyes they contrive to give to this simple material, the \ cupine quills. The sinew of the deer, and some ot animals, furnish 'Jie Indian women with thread, of any gree of flneness or strength. The wants of these sin folk are few, and those easily supplied by the adaptatioi such mf ^orials as they can command with ease, in tl savage s. ..e. Appendix N. Page 339. — " is Motmt Ararat'^ Mount Ararat, the highest elevation on the Rice L Plains, for nearly two years the residence of the Autho) and her family. R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL. 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This Work is constructed upon a new and distinctive plan, having for its leading feature a Classification of London in such a uumner as to be rendered interesting to every taste and occupation. Ctontfitts. Chapter I. " Introductory "—Chapter 2. " Useful Information "—Chapter .3. " A brief sketch of the History of London" — Cliaptcr4. " I'liysical and Social Statistics of London in 1851" — Chnpter h. " Cuiu ems every one wlio visits London" — CliapterC. "Antiquarian juid ArclufioLgicar'— Cliapter 7. "Archi- tecture and Practical Building" — Cliapter 8. "Will he welcomed by the Artist and Connoisseur" — Chapter J). " Chapter without a Title" — Cliapter 10. " Will interest the Engineer and Ship Builder " — Cliajiter 11. "To the Lawyer and Politician" — Chapter 12. "Learning and Science" — Chapter 13. "Litera- ture, Newspapers, and Printing" — Chapter 14. "Manufactories and Mercantile Exhibitions" — Chapter \5. "Music" — Chapter Hi. "Parks, Squares, and Gardens "—Chapter 17. 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Gd. bound in cloth, With Vignette and xiOntispicce, uniform \yith "Proverbial Philosopl) BALLADS FOB THE TIMES, NO-W riRST COLLECTED. GERALDINE, A MODERN PYRAMID, HACTENUS, J THOUSAND LINES, AND OTHER POEMS, BY MARTIN F. TUPPER, D.C.L. F.R.S. " With smoothness of measure, Mr. Tapper's design is always exceltei and his versification is broujj;ht to bear upon things of no transient intere It is one of the best characteristics of his labours, that he does not write i praise, but for the benefit of his fellow-nien — not merely for time, but l eternity." — Bell's Messenger. Cheap Edition, in One Vol. cloth, price 8s. THE CROCK OF GOLD, AND OTHER TALES. ;(g}{ia " This charming tale has won its way to the well-merited distinction of • Popular Edition,' embellished with a characteristic frontispiece from tl telling pencil of John Leech. We can read it again and again with frei pleasure." — Literary Gazette. " We have rarely had occasion to speak more highly of any work than this. The purpose of the writer is admirable, the manner of his working o the story is natural and truthful, and the sentiments conveyed are all that ci be desired." — Bell's fVeekli/ Messenger. " We are glad to see such tales within the reach of the people. ISlech nics' Institutes, and libraries of a popular character, should avail thei selves of this edition." — Plymouth Herald. " A tale powerfully told, and with a good moral strongly enforced." Kentish Gazette. " This is one of the most original, peculiar, racy, and interesting books \ have ever read." — Cincinuali Gazette. " It is the fervour of style, the freshness of illustration, the depth of tn feeling present in every page, that gives these tales a charm peculiar themselves." — New York Evening Post, Edited by \V. C. Bryant. Just published, in fcap. Svo, price 3*. cloth, KING ALFRED'S POEME Now first turned into English Metre, by Mr. Tupper. ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE & Co. 25, PATERNOSTER ROW. )ITIONS. Esq. D.C.L. r.R.S. i. bound in cloth, 'Proverbial Pliilosopby," i TIMES, >. D, HACTENUS, A HER POEMS, DX. F.II.S. iesip;n is always exceHent, 's of no transient interest. , that he does not write tor 3t merely for time, but for tb, price 8*. F GOLD, ell-merlted distinctioti of a Iristic frontispiece from the gain and again witli fresh 1 highly of any work than of 8 manner of his working out Lts conveyed are all that tan Ich of the people. Mecha- Iractcr, should avail them- lioral strongly enforced."- - and interesting hooks we lustration, the depth of true tales a charm peculiar to I \V. C. Bryant. [e 3*. cloth, POEMS. t)y Mr. TUPPER. :ernoster row. NEW WORKS AND NEW EDITIONS. 13 In 4to. cloth, with mimerous Illustrations, price 10*. Qd. willi gilt edges, RAMBLES IN NORMANDY, ^MTII EIGHT ENGRAVINGS AITER TURNER & STANEIELD. And numerous Drawings by Wkik, Engraved on Wood by NicuoLLS and Masox. Price 10*. Q>d. with Portfolio, SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF MOSES, a Sitxm of Ctocntj) ter, Lord. Murchlsnn, Sir R. Murray, Jolin. Nares, Archdeacon. Nomianby, Lord. Northampton, Lord, Orme, Cosmo. Ouseley, Sir Willi.im Sir Gore. Owen, Professor. Perceval, Spencer. I'errv, J.imes, Pollock, Lord Chief B Proctor, B. W. ( Barr Cornwall \ Ripon, Lord. Roberts, D. Ross, Sir James Clark Russell, Lord John. Scott, Sir Walter. Sedgwick. Shelley. Sheri'hin, R. Brinsley, and Frank. Smith, James, Smith, Sydney. Soiithey. Stantlel'd, Clarkson. Swain, Charles. Talfou'd, Justice. Thackeray. Truro, Lord. Turner, Sharon. Tytler, P. F. Ward, R. I'lumcr. Wellinsiton, Duke of. West, B. Westmacott, Sir R. Whewell. Wilkle, Sir David. Willoughby de EresV Lord. Winchester, Bishop o (Sumner). Wordswortli. Wright, T. Young (Tragedian). subscribers' names received by all booksellers. ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE &5 CO. 25, PATERNOSTER ROW. EDITIONS. if the Author, engraved by Harlowe, APHY SEDAN; iscpnccs and Correspondence, tears, r, 1812-17, and of IS17-50, rsons who have hecn distln- nen, Poets, Authors, Men of ir Volumes, to bs published teed in the Narrative and 'ound — Northampton, Lord. Orme, Cosmo. Ouselry, Sir Wil\iam anU Sir OorP. Owen, Proffgsor. Perceval, Spencer. Perrv, J.inie*. Pollock, Lord Chief Baron. Proctor, M. W. (Barry Cornwall \ Ripon, Lord. Roberts, D. Ross, Sir James Clark. Russell, Lord John. Scott, Sir Walter. SedRwick. Shelley. ^ Sheri'liin, R. Brinsley, Tom and Frank. Smith, James. Smith, Sydney, Southey. Standeld, Clarkson. ton. Swain, Charles. Talfou'd, Justice. Thackeray. Truro, Lord. Turner, Sharon. Tytler, P. F. Wurd, R. I'lumer. Wellinsiton, Duke of. West, B. Westmacott, Sir U. Whewell. Wilkie, Sir David. WillouKhby de Kreshy, Lord. Winchester, Bishop of (Sumner). Wordsworth. Wright, T. I Young (Tragedian). ALL BOOKSELLERS. NEW WORKS AND NEW EDITIONS, c. Just Published, in foolscap 8vo. price B.». bound in clotli, UF THE ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY OP THE HUMAN MIND. BY THE REV. J. CAELILE, D.D. OF DUBLIN AND FARSONSTOWN. " We have been particularly struck with the acutene.^s of the learnc*! divine's reasoning, and tlie clever adaptation to whicli he lias resorted to make his views clear; but In no respect have we been more gratified than to lind tliat he makes the Word of God the basis of his inve.sti<;ations, and proves that without Revelation all human argument is fallacy ami ab- surdity." — Bell's Messenger, " It is adapted entirely to the use of young Students, to wliom the subject may be new, and to whom It wijl be useful as an introduction to the Enylisli and Scotch metaphysicians. Dr- Carlile's arrangement is new, and has tlie merit of clearness and convenience. The style is very popular, and renders tlie author's views easily intelligible." — Nonconformist. " Dr. Carlile has aimed at doing for metaphysics what Sir John Herschcl accomplished for astronomy in his popular Manual, and Paley for his subject in his celebrated Eridences of Cliristiunitij. He has not merely compiled or analysed, but has read and thought for himself, and wliat he writes, though no doubt directly traceable to other sources, is yet stamped with his own character and feeling."— GMa/-rf 1 ■ 11 K ■I .' t II 20 NEW WOnivS AND NEW EDITIONS. Second Edition, cnlur[^cd and improved, price 2,;. Cut. ROMANISM IN ENGLANi EXPOSED. BY CHARLES HASTINGS COLLETTE. " Tltis is a most humiliating exposure of some of the lowest forms lajial superstition; as low as anythiiit,' to lie foiuui in the Ilonianisni (ii'Uoa or Naples, but not too low to liave otitaiiied the sanction of tl ]',c lesiastical aiitliorities in Eni,'lantl, or to l)e a(loi)to(l i)y not a few of Iht votaries in tlie chief cities and towns of England in the year 1851. " \Vc recommend the work to the serious and earnest attention of oi readers as one of unusual interest, and as discoverinf? tlie active existenci in our very midst, of a system of idolatry and blasphemy as gross as an revorded in the history of I'opery." {Si'couil Notice.) — " Were it in our power to give effect to our wishes, w would place a copy of the volume before us in the hands of every Homa Catholic layman, as well as of every Protestant in the community. Sue a calm, searching, thorough exp "ire of the leading points of the Romis system ; such a masterly anato- f the teaching of the infamous I.iguoi (the special lavourite of Dr. \\ i). and of the monstrous fables relate of most of those unhappy being . are found in its list of saints, and whos lives seem to have been spent in making themselves as miserable as the; possibly could, by self-inllicted tortures, cannot fail to do good." — Bell' IVeekly Messenger. " We can honestly recommend this little volume as containing withii a small compass, and in a style of piqiiunt interest, an exposure of Roman ism in England' which we hope will have a wide circulation, and will opei the eyes of not a few to the reliyious and moral prospects of this country, s< far as they may be influenced by Cardinal Wiseman, and the system whici he is extending with so much boldness, subtlety, and skill." — Eclectic Rcvieu "A volume full of painfully instructive matter, derived from authenti sources and ably put together, with which it is desirable that all who ar ignorant of the real character of Romanism, and inclined to view it with ai indulgent eye, should make themselves acquainted." — Juhii Bull. Also, Ly the same Author, price \s. POPISH INFALLIBILITY. " A more valuahle production could hardly have appeared in this season ( Popish aggression and intolerance " — Bell's Messenger. " The present work takes a somewhat lofty flight; the disquisition is clos and elevated, with a vast mass of learned reference, and, for its size, con prises an unusual amount of solid matter. It is by no means a work for tli multitude; but for the class to whom the multitude look, and by whom the are taught and led, it can hardly fail to be useful. It is, indeed, very valuabi as a book of reference, since the authorities upon a variety of chief point are copiously cited." — British Banner. ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE & CO. 25, PATERNOSTER ROW. IT IONS. , price 2j. Cul, NGLAND OLLETTE. le of the lowest forms (if mill in the Ronianisin of iiii'tl the sanction of the iited by not a few of their II the year 1851. earnest attention of our rini? tlie active existence, aspheiuy as gross as any ve etrect to our wishes, we le hands of every Uoinau in the community. Such inu points of the Romish ? of the infamous I-lguori e monstrous fables related its list of saints, and whose lelves as miserable as they fail to do good."— Bell's ime as containing within an exposure of ' Roman- circulation, and will open ospects of this country, so lan, and the system which sk\\\."--Ecleclic Review, derived from authentic esirable tliat all who are inclined to view it with an —John Bull. ice. 1*. [BILITY. appeared in this seauon of iger. t; the disquisition is close ice, and, for its size, com- V no means a work for the e look, and by whom they [t is, indeed, very valuable a variety of chief points PERNOSTER ROW. NEW WORKS AND NEW EDITIONS. DR. ACIlILLr'S DISCLOSUllES. 81 Second Edition, in 8vo, price 7*. Cxi. Iiandsomely bound, DEALINGS with the INQUISITIOi^ ; on, PAPAL ROME, ITER PRIESTS AND ITER JESUITS, WITH IMI'OUTANT DISCLOSUIIKS. BY REV^ OIACINTO ACIIILLI, D.I). Lale Prior and Visilur of the Dnminican Order, Head Professor of Theulogij, and ricar of the Master of ths Sacred Apostolic Palace, tSjC. Extract from the Work. — "It is to unmask and expose I'opcry, as it is at the present day, that 1 undertake the writing of this work I should be sorry for it to be said, or thought, that I undertook it to gratify any bad feeling; my sole motive has been t«o make the truth evident, that all may apprehend it. It was for hearing and speaking the trutli that 1 iiicurrtil the liatred of the Papal Co'.ot; it was for the truth's sake that I hesitated at no sacrifice it required of me; and it is for the truth that I lay the present Narrative before the public." EXTR.\CTS FROM REVIEWS. " Dr. Achilli's most valuable book, independently of the important information it contains, breathes a spirit of fervent piety and devotion, wiiith no one but a man thoroughly convinced of the truths of Christianity, as set forth in the only invaluable Word of Truth, could have used." — Bell's Messeiiyer. " The book contains internal evidence of truth." — Spectator. " As illustrating the fearful curse of Popery, Dr. Achilli's hook is vrry valuable. At the present crisis, it deserves an extensive circulation." — Standard of Freedo/ii. " It is difficult to say which is most interesting — the history of his enrly doubts and misgivings, or of his conversion, imprisonments, und escapes in later years." — Daily News. " This valuable and most seasonable volume." — Eva- gelical Ma;; :zive. '* Dr. Achilli has many titles to be an authority on all that relates to the Inquisition." — Express. " Amongst the many volumes which the recent Rorran Catholic movement has called into existence, this work of Dr. Achilli's is likelv to obtain tliu most permanent popularity. As an able and lucid digest ag..inst Pojjery, iis a graphic description of many of the practices of the Romish Cliurcl), and as the record of the experience of a vigorous and enlightened mind, the work is one of the most valuable which the subject has called forth There is, however, in the generalities of our Author's account, a truthfulness, ii knowledge, and mastery of his subject, and opi)ortunity of observations which will go far to make his volume a standard work in defence of the principles of Protestantis,ni." — Alius. ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE & CO. 25, PATERNOSTER ROW. ■i '11 : 1 !' ■} 'I ii • i : !' ii . ,1 .1 .;i 1 ,■< i, ■■'■if II i; t: ■* : !i .1 i>i; g2 KEW WORKS AND NEW EDITIONS. 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" We do not know any other book that, in the same compass, contains i a rich selection of pieces, that are at once spriglitly and instructive, pati and devout." — Congregational Magnzine. " A very pleasing and suitable selection." — Westminster Review. ■ " A judicious selection of attractive poems." — Asiatic Journal. " A very good selection."— Wesleyan Methodist Magazine. " It is really a treat to see anything so simply good as the little "oli before us," — Metropolitan Magazine. " Executed with soundness of judgment, delicacy of taste, and great r£ of res^earcli. No school or nursery, mother or teacher, ought to be witl it." — Manchester Chronicle. " A nice charming book." — Tail's Magazine. " This is a very good selection, made with pains, and judicioi arranged."— Pairio/. ' \^ Second Edition, in 12mo, 6j. hound in cloth, STUDIES IN ENGLISH POETRY WITH SHORT BIOGRAPHICAL SICETCHES, AND NOTES EXPLANATORY AND CRITICAL, Intended as a Text-Book for the higher Classes in Schools, and as Introduction to the Study of English Literature. By Joseph Payne. "The plan and the execution are equally good ; altogether it is an excell reading book of poetry." — Watchman. " The work is deserving of commendation, as comprehending much t is excellent— the very flowers and gems of English poetry— and noth exceptionable." — TaiVs Magazine. " We can honestly reconimeud the volume to the favour and confidence our readers." — Eclectic Review. " Mr. Payne is entitled to the highest praise for the care bestowed on 1 antiquated ortliography of the earlier authors, and the ability and judgm^ displayed in the annexed notes tlirougliout the volume." — The Student. In Preparation, hy the same Author, STUDIES IN ENGLISH PROSE, Uniform with the ahove. ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE & CO. 25, PATERNOSTER ROW, EDITIONS. jt cloth, gilt edges, \ CHILDREN ; LIES, by Joseph Payne. D ENLARGED. rming collection of poetry."— same compass, contains such litlj and instructive, paMieiic Vedminster Review. —Asiatic Journal. ist Magazine. ly good as the little "olume '■cacy of taste, and great ran^e teacher, ought to be without yith pains, and judiciously lound in cloth, H POETRY; [CUES, AND NOTES |lTICAL, usscs in Schools, and as an dish Literature. ; altogether it is an excellent , comprehending much that inglish poetry— and nothiiig 1 the favour and confidence of for the care bestowed on the Jmd the ability and judgment \\i)\mi\e:'—Tlie Studtnl. 1 Author, SH PROSE, bve. NEW WOllKS AND NEW EDITIONS. 25 i Second Edition, revised and corrected, with an Index, in 12nio, cloth lett€red, price bs. CHEMISTRY NO MYSTERY: BEING THE SUBJECT-MATTER OF A COURSE OF LECTURES BY DR. SCOEFEIIN. SKustrateQ tijrougiiout tniti) Hiagrams ano SSUooDcuts. 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PIPPIE'S WARNING; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF A DANCING DOG. By Catharine Crowe, Autlior of " Susan Hopley," &c. III. STRATAGEMS. By Mrs. Newton Crosland, (late Camilla Toulmin.) " A sweet tale, penned in a fair mood, and such as will make a rare gift for a child."— iSmh. IV. With Four Illustrations, MY OLD PUPILS. •»• The former work of this Author, " My Schoolboy Days," has at- tained great popularity, upwards of ten thousand copies having been circu- lated in this country alone. V. Jnst published, PLEASANT PASTIME: Or DRAWING-ROOM DRAMAS for PRIVATE REPRESENTATION BY THE YOUNG. VI. In preparation, THE MONKEY'S RAFT. BY MRS. CROWE. ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE & CO. 25, PATERNOSTER ROW. 128 NEW WORKS AND NEW EDITIONS. I 1 ! I ! I I r.'i ^ lit In fcap. (Cuts by Gilbert), price Zs. 6d. handsomely bound, with gilt edges, LOVE: A REALITY, NOT ROMANi By MRS. THOMAS GELDART, Autlior of " Truth in Everything," &c. CONTENTS. CHAP , CHAP. I. Young Ladies' Chat. VIII II. The Morninft after tlie Party — Alice at Home. III. Love's YounR Dream. IX IV. A Sister's Influence — Kate's Return — Renewal of her X Love. V. Ernest's Trial. XI VI. Plans for Grahame — The XII Mother a Confidante, &c. XIII VII. Parents' Talk — The Son's XIV Confidence. XV Single Ladies not nee rily selfish — Aunt Ber Scheme. The Fashionable Wife Mother. Ernest's Visit at Hon Edward Wallace in Lo\ Alice's Visit of Sympatl The unexpected Obstacl The Return— The Wedd Alice a Wife. Kate's better Days. " Few writers are more indefatigable in their offices of benevolence the authoress of this elegant little volume, who las once more done he infinite credit by a transcript of the realities of life, so fairly and truly m as to go home to the heart of every one, who follows the tale to the elusion. It is a hitjh gift to be able to write well ; but it is a far higher nobler privilege io be known to write usefully, and to the best of purpo and this Mrs. Geldart has never more effectually done than in ' Lov^ Reality, not Romance.' " — Bell's Messenger. In foolscap, with numerous Engravings, CANADIAN CRUSOE S. ^ ^le ot tfft Kite Hafte plains. By MRS. TRAILL (late CATHARINE PARR STRICKLAN] AUTHORESS OF " THE BACKWOODS OF CANADA, ETC." EDITED BY AGNES STRICKLAND. ILLUSTRATED BY HARVEY. [In prepara ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE & CO. 25, PATERNOSTER ROW EDITIONS. NEW WORKS AND NEW EDITIONS. n \d. handsomely bound, DT ROMANCE. Author of " Truth NEW TALE FOR THE YOUNG, 'BY SILVERPEN. Just Publislied, in fcap. 8vo, price 7*. ^d. elegantly bound and gilt, with numerous Illustrations by Uarvet, SinKle Ladies not necessa- rily selfish— Aunt Bertha's Scheme. The Fashionable Wife and Mother. :Srnest'8 Visit at Home — Edward Wallace in Love. Alice's Visit of Sympathy. The unexpected Obstacle. The Return— The Wedding. Alice a Wife. Kate's better Days. sir offices of benevolence than 10 las once more done herself life, so fairly and truly made, lo follows the tale to the con- jU ; but it is a far higher and and to the best of purposes ; lally done than in 'Love: a Engravings, U S E S. le plains. PARR STRICKLAND), loF CANADA, ETC." llCKLiLND. HARVEY. \_In preparation* 'ATERNOSTER ROW. THE DOCTOR'S LITTLE DAUr-HTEB. THE STORY OF ^ Qtf^iWi Etfe amttrst tfje S33ootrs atitt jitilld, BY ELIZA METE YARD. " This is a very delightful book, especially calculated for the amusement and instruction of our young friends; and is evidently the production of a right-thinking and accomplished mind." — Church of England Uevhw. " An elegant, interesting, and unobjectionable jiresent for young ladi'-i. The moral of the book turns on benevolence. " — Christian Times. " This Story of a Child's Life is so full of beauty and meekness, that we can hanlly express our sense of its worth in the words of common prai&e." — Nonconformist. " This will be a choice present for the young." — British Qiiarlerlt/ Review. " The whole story is told with a most touching grace, and a golden glow of poetry pervades it. The fine designs of Harvey which illustrate the book, add greatly to its attractiveness, and we cannot entertain a doubt of its becoming one of the most popular volumes in the 'Children's Library.'" — Eliza Cook's Journal. Just published, ir. fcap. 8vo, price 3*. Gd. cloth gilt, RECOLLECTIONS OF MRS. ANDiHRSON'S SCHOOL. ^ 13oo& for i^tds. BY JANE M. WINNARD. ILLUSTRATED BY FRANKLIN. " A pretty unpretentious volume, neatly embellished, and gay in its livery of green an