IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) % 1.0 ^ I.I 1.25 so ^^ li: Ii4 I— 2.2 !! 1^ |2.0 1- J. IIJ-8. 1.4 1.6 = V] <^ /^ >> ^^ 'f s ^.fj>i.^^ y &•. /!^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MSeO (716) 872-4503 <1> . (meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), whichever applies. Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le CEs: le symbols — ► signifie "A SUIVRE ", le symbols V signifie "FIN ". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film^s d des taux de reduction diff6rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est fiimd d partir de I'angle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. f 1 2 3 t z 3 1 * 1: • 6 i CAPTAIN MAUKYATS STORIES TJic ''King's Own" Edition 'I 1 1 THE SETTLERS IN CANADA CAPTA/N MA1{RYAT\S STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. In Crown. Wvo, cloth, each containiinj Sia; Illustrations in Photogrcwure. MASTEKAIAN READY ; or, Tlie ^Vrcck of the Pacific. Jllustr.'itions by ^>. 1 1. VKDwrii. THE SETTLERS IN (CANADA. Illustrations by E. J. WiiEEi.Eii. .SCENES IN AFRICA. Illustrations by IIenhv Austin. THE CHILDREN OF THE NEW FOREST. Illustrations by E. J. AFhkeleu. THE LirrLE SAVAGE. Illustrations by E. J. AVilKELEB. ^s Jie )ns IIY E. vt I'U eroviij-i I n n'cfi 1/1 Fjri?, S4-4. "k** 'no: ^■■ir,AV< i\ CA:xAi>A i%^ ■if a^-Lf i ri^ riiM SETTLERS IN CAI^xVDA BY CAl'TAIN MAJIKVAT ILIiUSTllATIONa I5Y E. J. WllEKLEK ^^^^c,..,.^^ _ LONDON (iKOlKiE UOUTLEDGE AND SONS, Limited IJUOADWAY, LuDGATE IIill 1898 {Author's Edition) .^^ 5*/ 1S8399 '4 Printed by 1Um-a»:t7nr, Hanson " " Nothing, sir," replied Alfred, " but my duty to my parents. It is a most painful step for me to take, but I leave you to judge whether I can do otherwise." Alfred then detailed to Captain Lumley all that had occurred, the resolution which his father and motiier had taken, and their being then on board the timber-ship, and about to proceed to their new destination. Captain Lumley heard Alfred's story without interruption, and then, after a pause, said, " I think you are right, my boy, and it does you honour. Where you are going to, I have no doubt but your courage and your protection will be most important. Yet it is a pity you should be lost to the service." 23 J^ 1 1 i\ 1 ' if r M V |J THE SETTLERS IN CANADA " I feel most sincerely, sir, I assure you, but " ''But you sacrifice yourself; I know that. I admire the resolution of your father and mother. Few could have the courage to have taken such a step — few women, especially. 1 shall call upon them, and pay my respects. In half-an- hour I shall be ready, and you shall accompany me, and in- troduce me. In the meantime you can go and see your old messmates." Alfred left the cabin, nmch flattered by the kindness of Captain Lumley, and went down to his former messmates, with whom he remained until the boatswain piped away the crew of the captain's barge. He then went on deck, and as soon as the captain came up, he went into the boat. The captain followed, and they were soon on board of the London Merchant. Alfred introduced Captain Lumley to his father and mother ; and in the course of half-an-hour, being mutually pleased with each other, an intimacy was formed, when Captain Lumley observed, " I presume that, much as you may require your son's assistance on your arrival at Canada, you can dispense with his presence on board of this vessel. My reason for making this observation is that no chance should ever be thrown away. One of my lieutenants wishes to leave the ship on family concerns. He has applied to me, and I have considered it my duty to refuse him, now that we are on the point of sailing, and I am unable to pro- cure another. But for your son's sake, I will now permit him to go, and will, if you will allow him to come on board of the Portsmouth, give Alfred an acting-lieutenant's order. Should anything occur on the passage out, and it is not at all impossible, it will ensure his promotion ; even if nothing occiu's, I will have his acting order confirmed. At Quebec, he shall, of course, leave the ship, and go with you. I don't pretend to detain him from his duty ; but you will observe, tiiat if he does obtain his rank, he will also obtain his half- pay, which, if he remains in Canada with you, will be a great assistance ; and if things should turn out so well, that you can, after a year or two, do without him, and allow him to return to the service, he will then have already gained the most important step, and will, I have no doubt, soon rise to the command of a ship. I will give you till to-morrow to decide. Alfred can come on board in the morning, and let me know." 24 \ mire the have the specially. half-an- , and ill- your old idness of essnmtes, away the eck, and at. The 1 of the ey to his ur, being i formed, much as irrival at ■d of this that no putenants s applied lim, now to pro- permit on board order, is not at nothing 'Quebec, 1 don't observe, lis half- a great ;hat you him to ned the »e to the decide, know." THE SETTLERS IN CANADA (( I think I may say, Captain Lumlcy," replied Mrs. Campbell, " that my husJ'and could have but one reason in hesitating a moment, and \.\\d^. is, to ascertain whether I should like to part with my son during our passage out. 1 should, indeed, be a very weak woman, if I did not make such a trifling sacrifice for his benefit, and, at the time, feel most grateful to you for your kind intentions toward him. I rather think that Mr. Campbell will not find it necessary to have till to-morrow morning to consider the proposal ; but 1 leave him to answer for himself." " I can assure you. Captain Lumley, that Mrs. Campbell has only expressed my own feelings, and, as far as we are concerned, your offer is most gratefully accepted." *' Then, Alfred," replied Cajitain Lundey, " has only to make his appearance on board of the Port.siinmth to-morrow morning, and he will find his acting-order ready for him. We sail, I believe, the day after, if the weather is at all favourable ; so, if I have not another opportunity to pay my respects to you, you must allow me to say farewell now. I shall keep my eye upon your vessel during the passage; at all events, Alfred will. Tin very sure." Captain Lumley shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, bowed to the rest of the cabin party, and quitted the ship. As he went over the side, he observed to Alfred, " I perceive you have some attractions in your party. It is (juite melan- choly to think that those pretty cousins of yours should be buried in the woods of Canada. To-morrow, at nine o'clock, then, I shall expect you. — Adieu ! " Although the idea of Alfred leaving them during the passage out was not i)leasant, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were most happy at the chance which had offered itself fcr their son's advantage, and seemed in good spirits when he took leave of them on the following morning. "Captain Wilson, you sail so well, that I ho))e you will keep close to us all the passage out," observed Alfred, as he was taking leave. "Except you happen to come to action with an enemy, and then I shall haul off' to a respectful distance, Mr. Alfred," replied Captain Wilson, laughing. " That, of course. Cainion-balls were never invented for ladies, although they have no objection to balls, — have they, 25 ' THE SETTLERS IN CANADA J' ': if Emma ? Well, good-bye once more. You can often sec me witli the spy-glass it* you feel inclined. Recollect that." Alfred shoved off in the boat, and was soon on board of the Portsmouth. The following day they sailed with a fair wind and moderate weather ; the convoy now increased to one hundred and twenty vessels. We must leave Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and family on board the London Merchant^ and follow Alfred in the Ports- mouth, during the passage to Quebec. For several days the weather was moderate, although the wind was not always fair, and the convoy was kept together, and in good order. I'he London Merchant was never far away from the Portsmouth, and Alfred employed a large portion of his time, when he was not keeping his watch, in keeping his spy-glass upon the vessel, and watching the motions of his cousins and the rest of the family. On board of the London Merchant they were similarly occupied, and very often a handkerchief was waved by way of salute and recognition. At last they arrived off the banks of Newfound- land, and were shrouded in a lieavy fog, the men-of-war constantly firing guns, to inform the merchant-ships in what direction they were to steer, and the merchant-vessels of the convoy ringing their bells, to warn each other, that they might not be run foul of. The fog lasted two days, and was still continuing, when the party on board the London Merchant, just as they were sitting down to dinner in the cabin, heard a noise and bustle on deck. Captain Wilson ran hastily up and found that his vessel had been boarded by a French boat's crew, who had beaten down the men and taken possession. As there was no help, all he could do was to go down to the cabin, and inform his passengers that they were prisoners. The shock of this intelligence was very great, as may be supposed, but still there was no useless lamentation or weeping. One thing is certain, that this news quite spoiled their appetite for their dinner, which, however, was soon despatched by the French officer and his men, after the boat had left, and the vessel's head had been put in an opposite direction. Captain Wilson, who had returned on deck, came down in about a quarter of an hour, and informed the party, who were silently brooding over this sudden change in their S6 f. ! ( ;n see me mt." board of ith a fair ireased to family on the Ports- lough the together, never far l1 a large i watch, in ching the On board jpied, and salute and Newfound- nen-of-war ps in what sels of the that they when the ere sitting bustle on that his who had here was cabin, and The shock posed, but ing. One r appetite led by the , and the e down in arty, who K in their THE SETTLERS IN CANADA prospects, that the wind was very light, and that he thought the fog was clearing off a little, and that if it did so before it was dark, he was in great hopes that they should be re- captured. This intelligence appeared to revive the hopes of Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, and they were still more encouraged when they heard the sound of guns at no very great distance. In a few minutes afterward the cannonading became very furious, and the Frenchmen who were on board began to show strong signs of uneasiness. 'J'he fact was, that a French squadron, of one sixty-gun ship, and two corvettes, had been on the look-out for the convoy, and had come in among them during the fog. They had captured and taken possession of several vessels before they were discovered, but the sixty-gun ship at last ran very near to the Portsmouth, and Alfred, who had the watch, and was on a sharp look-out, soon perceived through the looming fog, that she was not one of the convoy. He ran down to acquaint the captain, and the men were immediately ordered to their quarters, without beating the drum, or making any noise that might let the enemy know they were so near. The yards were then braced in, to check the way of the Portsmouth, so that the strange vessel might come up with her. Silence was kept fore and aft, not a whisper was to be heard ; and as the Frenchmen neared them, they perceived a boat putting off from her to board another vessel close to them, and also heard the orders given to the men in the French language. This was sufficient for Captain Lumley : he put the helm down, and poured a raking broadside into the enemy, who was by no means prepared for such a sudden salute, although her guns were cast loose, ready for action, in case of accident. The answer to the broadside was a cry of " Vive la Repuhlique !" and, in a few seconds, both ships were hotly engaged — the Portsmouth having the advantage of lying upon the bow of her antagonist. As is often the case, the heavy cannonading brought on n dead calm, and the two ships remained in their respective positions, except that the Portsmouth's was more favourable, having drawn ahead of the French vessel, so that her broad- side was poured into her opponent, without her being able to return the fire from more than four or five of her guns. The fog became more opaque than ever ; the two ships had 27 TMK Sr.TTLEKS IN CANADA i!i w \i\ l^ I ' :> I iieared each otluT consitlembly, or it would have hccii im- possible to (listiii^tiish. All that tht^y voiild see fVoin the deck of the Parlsminilh was t!ie jib-boom and cap of the bowsprit of the Frenchman, the rest of Iht bowsprit, and her whole hull, were 1 )st in the impenetrable ^looni ; but that was sufficient for the men to direct tiieir guns, and the fire from the Portsmoulh was most rapid, although the extent of its execution was unknown. After half-an-hoiir of incessant broadsides, the two vessels had ajjproached each other so close, that the jib-boom of the Frenchman was pointed between the fore and main ri<^^injLif of the Portsmouth. Captain Lumley immediately pive orders to lash the French- man's bowsprit to his mainmast, and this was accomplished by the first lieutenant, Alfred, and the seamen, without any serious loss, for the fon; was still so thick, that the Frenchman on their forecastle could not j)erceivc what was doin<; at their bowsj)rit's cap. *' She is ours now," said Captain Lundcy to the first lieutenant. " V'es, sir, — fast enonc^h. I think, if the foi:^ were to clear away, they would haul down their colours," " Not till the last, depend upon it," rc])lied Cajitain Lumley. "F^ire away there, on the main-deck, jnive tliem no time to take breath. Mr. Campbell, tell the second lieutenant to let the foremost lower deck guns be pointed more aft. I say, not till the last," repeated (Captain Lumley to the first lieutenant; "these reptd)licans will lake a good deal of beating, even upon the water." "It's clearing up, sir, to the Ihward a little," said the master. "I see — yes, it is," rejilied Captain Lumley. "Well, the sooner the better: we shall see what has become of all the shot we have been throwing away." A white silvery line appeared on the horizon^ to the north- ward ; gradually it increased, and as it rose up, became broader, till at last the curtain was lifted up, and a few feet were to be seen above the clear blue water. As it continued to approach, the light became more vivid, the space below increased, and the water was ruffled with the coming wind, till at last the fog rolled off as if it had been gradually furled, and sweeping away in a heavy bank to leeward, 28 Llv TIIK SKT'l'Li:US IN CANADA been im- Tom tijc » of llu' and her but that I the fire :xtcnt of incessant other so pointed )rLsm>nlli. French- niplished hout any cnclnnan doinj^ at tlie first ; to clear I Captain e ihejii second )ointed Lundey a good 1 said tlie ^^ell, the all the e north- became 'ew feet mtinucd e below .g wind, radually eeward, exposed tlie state and position of the wiiole convoy, and I he contending" vessels. The i'in^Jish seamen on l)«);u'd of the I'tnixinoiilk cheered the return of daylight, as it might truly bo termed. Cai)tain Lundey fomul that they had been con- tending' in tile v(!ry centre of the convoy, which was still lying aromul them, with the excei)tion of about fifteen vessels, which were a few miles ai)art, with their heads in an opposite direction. These were evidently those which had been captured. Tlie two frigates, which iiad been stationed in the rear of the convoy, were still two or three miles distant, but making all sail to come up and assist the Porlsmoulh. Many of the convoy, which had been in the direction of the fire, appeared to have suHered in their masts and sails; but whether any injury had been received in their hulls it was n(»t possible to say. The French line-of-baltle ship had sufTered dreadfully from the fire of the Porl.sitioulh. ller main-mast and nn//en-mast were over the siile, her forward ports were many of them almost beat into (uie, and everything on board appeared to be in the greatest confusion. " She can't stand this long," observed Caj)tai!i Lundey. " I'ire away, my lads." " The Circe and Viren are coming down to us, sir," observed the first lieutenant ; " we do not want them, and they will only be an excuse for the Frenchman to surrender to a superior force. If they recaptured the vessels taken, they would be of some service." " Very true. Mr. Campbell, make their signal to pursue cai)tured vessels." Alfred ran aft to obey the orders. The flags had just flown out at the masthead, when he received a bullet through his arm : for the F'reneh, unable to use the m.ijor portion of their ginis, had, when the fog cleared up, poured in incessant volleys of musketry upon the decks of the Porlsmouth. Alfred desired the quarter-master to untie his neck handkerchief for him, and bind up his arm. Having so done, he continued to do his duty. A bold attempt was now made by the I'rench to clear their vessel by cutting the fastening of her bowsprit, but the marines of the Vortsitwuth were prei)ared for them, and after about twenty gallant fellows had dro})j)ed down on the booms and gangways of 29 • ! I I THE SETl'LERS IN CANADA the Portsmouth, the attempt was given up, and four minutes afterward the French colours were hauled down. She was boarded from her bowsprit by the first lieutenant and a party of seamen. The lashings were cast off, and the vessels cleared of each other, and then the English seamen gave three cheers in honour of the victory. i! •Ml \\\ K' liJil f'l CHAPTER V X HE French sixty-gun ship proved to be the Lcor^das ; she had been sent out with two large frigates on purj«ose to intercept the convoy, but she had parted with her consorts in a gale of wind. Her loss of men was very great ; that on board of the Portsmouth was trifling. In a couple of hours the Portsmouth and her prize in tow were ready to proceed with the convoy, but they still remained hove to, to wait for the frigates which were in chase of the captured vessels. All of these were speedily come up with except the Lotidoti Merchant, which sailed so remarkably well. At last, to the great joy of Alfred (who as soon as the bullet had been ex- tracted and his arm dressed, had held his telescope fixed upon the chase), she hove to, and was taken possession of Before night the convoy were again collected together, and were steering for their destination. The next morning was clear, and the breeze moderate. Mrs. Campbell, who, as well as all the rest, was very anxious about Alfred, requested Captain Wilson to run down to the Portsmouth, that they might ascertain if he was safe. Captain Wilson did as she requested, and writing in chalk " All well " in large letters upon the log-board, held it over the side as he passed close to the Portsjnouth. Alfred was not on deck — fever had com- pelled him to remain in his hammock — but Captain Luniley made the same reply on the log-board of the Portsmouth, and Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were satisfied. " How I should like to see him," said Mrs. Campbell. " Yes, madam," observed Captain Wilson, " but they have too much to do on board of the Portsmouth just now ; they have to repair damages and to look after the wounded ; they have a great quantity of prisoners on board, as you may 30 DA nd four minutes down. She was eutenant and a . and the vessels sh seamen gave 5 LeorJdasj she on purf»ose to ;h her consorts great; that on ouple of hours idy to proceed to, to wait for >tured vessels, pt the London Vt last, to the had been ex- elescope fixed possession of. together, and ■ morning was bell, who, as •ed, requested 'ih, that they >n did as she large letters passed close i'er had com- otain Lumley 'fismout/i, and mpbell. ut they have t now; they e wounded ; , as you may i ; ■^) W'l 1 rnn rcif-riSravure Prinlea ir Paras |l i ■'. THE SE'JTLERS IN CANADA / / / / Wi H- rans see, for a fjreat many are now on the booms ; they have no time for compHments." "That is very true," rephed Mr. Campbell, '*we must wait till we arrive at Quebec." " But we did not see Alfred," said Emma. '' No, miss, because he was busy enough below, and ^ dare say no one told him. They have said that all's well, and that is sufficient ; and now we nuist haul off again, for with such a heavy ship in tow. Captain Lumley will not thank me if I am always coming so close to him." " I am satisfied. Captain Wilson ; pray do nothing that might displease Captain Lumley. We shall soon see Alfred, I dare say, with the spy-glass." " I see him now," said Mary Percival, " he has his tele- scope, and he is waving his hat to me." "Thank God," replied Mrs. Campbell; "now I am satisfied." The Portsmouth cast off the French line-of-battle ship, as soon as they had jury-masts up and could make sail on them, and the convoy proceeded to the mouth of the St. Lawrence. " Captain W^ilson," said Percival, whose eyes were fixed on the water, "what animals are those, tumbling about and blowing, — those great white things?" " They are what are called the white whale, Percival," replied Captain Wilson ; " they are not often seen, except about here." " Then what is the colour of the other whales ? " "The northern whales are black — they are called the black whales ; but the southern, or spermaceti whales, are not so diiik in colour." Captain Wilson then, at Percival's request, gave him an account of how the whales were caught, for he had been several voyages himself in the northern whale fishery. '^ereival was never tired of asking questions, and C".ptain Wilson was very kind to him, and always answenxi him. John, generally speaking, stood by when Captain Wilson was talking, looking very solemn and very attentive, but not say- ing a word. " Well, John," said Emma to him after the conversation had been ended, "what was Captain Wilson telling you about?" " Whales," replied John, walking past her. 31 THE SETTLERS IN CANADA r I V i\ J I { " Well, but is that all you can tell me, John ? " " Yes," replied John, walkinuf away. "At all events, Miss limma, he keeps all his knowledge to himself," observed Captain Wilson, lauus pursuit. Now Martin Super, like all the rest, must have his fini when he comes back, and being a very v.ild fellow, he is often in scrapes when he has drunk too nuieh, so that he is occasion- ally put into j)rison for being riotous ; but I know him well, he has heen with me surveying for months, and when he is on service, a more steady, active, and brave man 1 do not know." " 1 believe you are right in recommending him," observed the (lovernor, "he will not be sorry io get out of the gaol, and I have no doubt but that he will conduct himself well if he once agrees to take your service, Mr. Cam])bell, lor one or two years. As for the Canadians, they are very harmless, but at the same time very useful. There are exceptions, no doubt; but tluir general character is anything but that of activity and courage. As I s;nd before, you will recpiire stout hearts, and Martin Su|)er is one, that is certain. Perhaps you can arrange this for Mr. Campbell.''" 'J'he Surveyor-Geiurnl ])romised to do so ; shortly after which, Mr. Campbell, with many thanks, look his leave of the (jovernor. Mr. Campbell, who had gained every possible inlormaticui relative to what would be most necessary for him to take Mith him, Avas actively emj)loyeil for a Ibrl night in m;r;iiig his 'purchases. Diuiiig this time much atlenlion was shown t«) them both by the I'aiglish and French resiilents at (Quebec. Alfred, whose wound was now nearly healed, was as active as usual, and Ileiu'y was of great assistance to his father in taking inventories and making out lists, ^c. Nor were Mrs. (Jampbell and the two girls miemployed ; they had purchased the coarse manufactin'es of the country, and were ve:y busy making dresses for themselves and for the children. Mr. Campbell had been one mornin^'^ at Mr. Farquhar's, th<; merchant's, to make inquiries about a con- veyance up to his new purchase (for he had concluded his arrangements with the Surveyor-Heneral), when the Governor sent a message by one of his aides-de-camp, to say that it was his intention in the course of ten tiays to send a detach- ment of soldiers up to Fort Frontignac— news having been received that the garrison was weakened by a fever which •37 ),' TiiK sivrri.Kus in canada Ii.ul l)t'okeii out; hikI that if Mr. ('ain|>li<-ll uoiild liki^ to Hvail iiiiiiseli' of tlu* opportunity, he and his i'ainily, and all his lii_<;'i^at!,c, shoidd _i;'o under the escort of the olUcer and troops. The oiler was of eom'se joyfully accepted, and on Mr. ('ainphell's callin;;' upon the (Jovernor to retinn his thanks, the latter told him that there would he plenty of room in the Indcdti.v and canoes for them and all their lugj^a^c, and that he need not give himself further trouble, or incur any further expense. M CIIAPrEU VI I HI'i next day the Sin'veyor (ieneral called, bringing with him Martin Super, the tra|)per. " Mr. Cani{)bell," said the Surveyor, " this is my friend Martin Super; I have spoken to him, and he has consented to take service for one year, and he will remain, if he is satisfied. If he serves you as well as he has served me when I have travelled through the country, I have no doubt but you will find him a valuable assistant." Martin Su])er was rather tall, very straight-limbed, show- ing both activity and strength. His head was smaller than usually is the case, which gave him the ai)j)earance of great lightness and agility. His countenance was very pleasing, being expressive of continual good humour, which was indeed but corresponding to his real character. He was dressed in a sort of hunting coat of deer-skin, blue cloth leggings, a cap of raccoon's skin, with a broad belt round his waist, in which he wore his knife. "Now, Martin Super, I will read the terms of the agree- ment between you and Mr. Campbell, that you may see if all is as you wish." The Surveyor-General read the agreement, and Martin nodded his head in acquiescence. " Mr. Campbell, if you are satisfied, you may now^ sign it ; Martin shall do the same." Mr. Campbell signed his name, and handed the pen to Martin Super, who then for the first time spoke. " Surveyor, I don't know how my name is spelt ; and if I 38 »Nr rm: sivri.. s in Canada lid lik(^ lo ily, and all ollictT and 'd, and on rt't.inii Ill's plenty of ii- Ingga^re, le, or incur ufing with my friend consented I, if he is I lue when doubt but )cd, show- aller than i of great pleasing, MS indeed h'essed in ngs, a cap , in which he agree- see if all id Martin V sign it ; e pen to and if I did, I couldn't write it, so 1 nnist do it Indian I'asliion, and put my totem to it." '' What is your name among the Indians, Martin ?" " The Painter," replied Martin, wlu) then ma I.-iii<;Ik(1 aiul lold Ihcni lli.il painlei's were a Kpot'ies of jKinthcr, not spoltetl, but tawiiy-coloiiivu, and at times very dangerous. *' Do you know the part of the country where we arc goin^ to?" said Henry to Super. " Ves, I have tra|)ped tliereabouts for months, but the beavers are scarce now." " Are there any otiier animals there ?" *' Yes," replied Martin, " small game, as we tenn it." " What sort are they } " *' Why, there's painters, and bears, and catamounts." " Mercy on us ! do you call that small game .'' why, what nnist the hirge be, then.''" said Mrs. ('an»j)bell. " Buffaloes, missiis, is what wc call big game." " liut the animals you speak of arc not good eating, Super," said Mrs. ('amj)bell ; "is there no game that we can cat ? " *'()h yes, plenty of deer and wild tinkey, antl bear's good eating, I reckon." "Ah ! that sounds better." After an hour's conversation, Martin Super was dismissed ; the whole of the family (except Alfred, who was not at home) very much pleased with what they had seen of him. A few days after this, Martin Super, who had now entered upon service, antl was very busy with Alfred, with whom he liad already become a favourite, was sent for by Mr. Campbell, who read over to him the inventory of the articles which they had, and incpiired of liim if there was anything else which might be necessary or advisable to take with them. " You said something about guns," re])lied Martin, " wliat sort of guns did you mean .'' " "We have three fowling-pieces and three muskets, besides pistols." "Fowling-pieces, — they are bird-guns, I believe, — no use at all ; muskets are soldiers' tools, — no use ; pistols are i>ops, and nothing better. You have no rifles ; you can't go into the woods without rifles. I have got mine, but you must have some." " Well, I believe you are right, Martin ; it never occurred to me. How many ought we to have } " 40 !■ I {' riiK sK'i ri,i:i{s in ( an ada " Well, that's acconliiiir Iiow many l)i' y«»ii in family ? " " \\c !ire five males and llnx'c; ffm/ilcs." " Well, then, sir, say ten rifles ; that will be <|nite snllieient. Two spare ones in case of aeeidenl," replietl Martin. "Why, Martin," said Mrs. Camphell, "yon do not mean that the ehildren and these yomii^ ladies and I are to lire ulfriries?" " I do mean to say, ma'am, that before I was as old as that litlle boy," jjointini; to .John, " 1 eould hit a mark well ; and a woman ou^ht at least to know h<»w to prime and load a rille, even if she does not lire it iK-rself It is a deadly wea|)on, ma'am, and the greatest leveller in creation, for the tri«i<;er ))ulled by a child will settle Ihe business of the stoutest man. I (hm't mean to sav that we may be called lo use them in that way, but it's always bi lUr to have Ibem, and to let other jx'opli- kn<»w that you have then), and all reaeared as if suninier had come upon them all at once. The heat was also very great, althou,gh, when they had landed, the weather was piercing cold ; but in Canada, as well as in Northern America, the transitions from heat to cold, and from cold to heat, are very ra{)id. My readers will be surprised to hear that when the winter sets in at Quebec, all the animals recpiired for the winter's consumption are at once killed. If the troo})s are numerous, perhaj)s three or four hundred bullocks are slaughtered and hung uj). Every family kill their cattle, their sheep, pigs, turkeys, fowls, ike, and ail are put up in the garrets, where the carcasses immediately freeze hard, and remain quite good and sweet during the six or seven months of severe winter which occur in that climate. When any portion of meat is to be cooked, it is gradually thawed in lukewarm water, and after that is put to the fire. If put at once to the fire in its frozen state it spoils. There is another strange circumstance which occurs in these cold latitudes ; a small fish, called the snow-fish, is caught during the winter by making holes in the thick ice, and these fish coming to the holes in thousands to breathe, are thrown out with hand- nets upon the ice, where they become in a few minutes frozen quite hard, so that, if you wish it, you may break them in half like a rotten stick. The cattle are fed uj)on these fish during the winter 43 THE SETTLERS IN CANADA 1 ,♦ ) I 111 Jiiths. But it has been provcil, wliicli is very strange, that if, after they have been frozen lor twenty-four hours or more, you put these fisli into water and gradually thaw them as you do the meat, they will recover and swim about ag.iin as well as ever. To proceed, however, Avith our history : — Mr. Campbell found that, after all his expenses, he had still three hundred pounds left, and this money he left in the Quebec Bank, to use as he might find necessary. His ex- P'vMiditurc had been very great. First, there was the removal of so large a family, and the passage out; then he had pro- cured at Liverpool a large (piantity of cutlery and tools, furniture, ike, all of which articles were cheajier there than at Quebec. At (Quebec h<; had also much to purchase : all the most expensive port.on of his house, such as windows, ready glazed, stoves, boarding for floors, cupboards, and partitions ; salt provisions, crockery of every description, two small waggons ready to be put together, several casks of nails, and a variety of things which it would be too tedious to mention. Procuring these, with the expenses of living, had taken away all his money, except the three hundred pounds 1 have mentioned. It was on the .'.'^tli of May that the embarkation took place, and it was not until tlio afternoon that all was jire- [lared, and Mrs. Campbell and lier nieces were conducted down to the hiilaiiix, which lay at the wharf, witli the troops all ready on board of them. The (iovernor and his aides- de-camp, besides many other inlluential people of Quebec, escorted them do\/n, and as soon as they had paid their adieus, the word w is given, the soldiers in the IxiUuinx gave three cheers, and away they went frou the wharf into the stream. For a short time there was waving of handkerchiefs and other tokens of goodwill on the part of those who were on the wharf; but that was soon left behind them, and the family found themselves separated from their acquaintances, and silently listening to the measured sound of the oars, as they dropped into the water. And it is not to be wondered at that they were silent, for all were occupied with their own thoughts. They called to mind the beautifid park at Wextoii, which they had quitted, ai'ter having resided there so long and so happily ; the hall, with all its splendour and all its comfort, rose up in their 44 THE SETTLERS IN CANADA ange, that a or more, lem as you lin as well ;s, he had left in the His ex- le removal i had pro- aiid tools, there than •chase : all ; windows, )ards, and ption, two ks of nails, tedious to living", had ed pounds ition took 1 was j)re- conducted the troo})s his aides- f Qiiehcc, laid their ani.v j4"ave into the kerchiefs who were , and the lintanccs, le oars, as silent, for called to J quitted, the hall, in their rememhrance ; each room with its furniture, each window with its view, was recalled to their memories ; they had crossed the Atlantic, and were now ahout to leave civilisa- tion and comfort behind them — to isolate themselves in the Canadian woods — to trust to their own resources, their own society, and their own exertions. It was, indeed, the com- mencement of a new life, and for which they felt themselves little adapted, after the luxuries they had enjoyed in their former condition ; h'\t if their thoughts and reminiscences made them grave and silent, they did not make them de- spairing or repining; they trusted to that Power who alone could protect — who gives and who takes away, and doeth with us as He judges best ; and if hope Wiis not buoyant in all of them, still there was confidence, resolution, and resig- nation. Ciradually they were roused from their reveries by the beauty of the scenery and the novelty of what met their sight: the songs, also, of the Canadian boatmen were nujsica^ and cheering, and by degrees, they had all recovered their usual good spirits. Alfred was the first to shake oft' liis melancholy feelings, and to attempt to remove them from oMiers ; nor was he unsuccessful. The officer who commanded the detachmenL of troops, and who was in the same halvau with the family, had respected their silence upon their departure from the wharf— j)erhaps he felt nnich as tiny did. His name was Sinclair, and his rank that of senior captain in the reginunt — a handsome, florid young man, tall and well made, very gentlemanlike, and very gentle in his manner,:;. " How very beautiful the foliage is on tluit point, mother," said Alfred, first breaking the silence, "what a contr.'ist between the leaves of the sycamore, so trans])arent and yellow, witli the sun lichind them, and the new shoots of the spruce fir." "It is, indeed, very lovely," re])lied INIrs. Cam])bell ; "and the branches of the trees, feathering down as \}w^ do to the surface of the water " "Like good Samaritans," said Emma, "extending their arms, that any unfortunate drowning person who was swept away by the stream might save himself by their assistance." "■ I had no idea that trees had so much charity or reflection, Emma," rejoined Alfred. 45 A V M I : lit i I! THE SETTLERS IN CANADA "I cannot answer for tlicir charity, but, by the side of this clear water, you must allow them reflection, cousin," replied Emma. " I presume you will add vanity to their attributes ? " answered Alfred ; " for they certainly appear to be hanging over the stream that they may look and admire themselves in the glassy mirror." ^' Pretty well that for a midshipman ; I was not aware that they used such choice language in a cockpit," retorted the young lady. " Pcrhai)s not, cousin," answered Alfred ; " but when sailors arc in the company of ladies, they become refined, from the association." "Well, I must admit, Alfred, that you are a great deal more polished after you have been a month on shore." " Thank you, cousin Emma, even for that slight admission," replied Alfred, laughing. " But what is that } " said Mary Percival, " at the point, it is a village — one, two, three houses — just opening upon us } " "That is a raft, Miss Percival, which is coming down the river," replied Ca})tain Sinclair. "You will see when we are nearer to it, that perhaps it covers two acres of water, and there are three tiers of timber on it. These rafts are worth many thousand pounds. They are first framed with logs, fastened by wooden tree-nails, and the timber placed within the frame. Thei*e are, perhaps, from forty to a hundred people on this raft to guide it down the stream, and the houses you see are built on it for the accommodation of these people. I have seen aS many as fifteen houses upon a raft, which will sometimes contain the cargoes of thirty or forty large ships." " It is very wonderful how they guide and direct it down the stream," said Mr. Campbell. " It is very dexterous ; and it seems strange that such an enormous mass can be so guided, but it is done, as you will perceive ; there are three or four rudders made of long sweeps, and, as you may observe, several sweeps on each side." All the party were now standing up in the sternsheets of the hnfeau to look at the people on the raft, who amounted to about fifty or sixty men — now running over the top to one side, and dragging at the sweeps, which required the joint 46 THE SKTTLEIiS IN CANADA [le of this /' replied ributes ? " ; hanging hemselves lot aware ' retorted lien sailors , from the ^reat deal •c. dmission," le point, it ipon lis ? " down the len we are water, and are worth with logs, ced within hundred and the m of these ion a raft, y or forty 2t it down it such an you will of long acli side." nsheets of amounted op to one the joint power of seven or eight men to each of them — now passing again over to the opposite sweeps, as directed by the steers- man. Tlie bateau kept well in to the shore, out of the way, and the raft passed them very quickly. As soon as it was clear of the point, as their course to Quebec was now straight, and there was a slight breeze down the river, the people on board of the raft hoisted ten or fifteen sails upon different masts, to assist them in their ilescent ; and this again excited the admiration of the party. The conversation now became general, until the hafeau.r were made fast to the shores of the river, while tiie men took their dinners, which had been prejiarcd for them before they left Quebec. After a rejiose of two hours, they again started, and at nightfall arrived at St. Anne's, where they found everything ready for their reception. Although their beds were composed of the leaves of the maize or Indian corn, they were so tired that they found them very comfort- able, and at daylight arose quite refreshed, and anxious to continue their route. Martin Super, who, with the two youngest boys, had been placed in a separate boat, had been very attentive to the comforts of the ladies after their em- barkation ; and it appeared that he had quite v»on the hearts of the two boys by his amusing anecdotes during the day. Soon after their embarkation, the name of Pontiac being again mentioned hy Captain Sinclair, Mrs. Campbell ob- served — " Our man Super mentioned that name before. I confess that I do not know anything of Canadian affairs; I know only that Pontiac was an Indian chief. Can you. Captain Sinclair, give us any information relative to a person who appears so well known in the province ? " " I shall be happy, Mrs. Campbell, as far as I am able, to satisfy you. On one point, I can certainly speak with con- fidence, as my uncle was one of the detachment in the fort of Detroit at the time that it was so nearly surprised, and he has often told the history of the affair in my ])resence. Pontiac was chief of all the Lake tribes of Indians. I will not repeat the names of the different tribes, but his own particular tribe was that of the Ottawas. He ruled at the time that the Canadas were surrendered to us by the French. At first, although very proud and liMUglitv, and claiming the 47 " ' ■"f\ 1^ !( i • THE SETTLERS IN CANADA sovereignty of the country, lie was very civil to the English, or at least appeared so to be ; for the French had given us so bad a reputation with all the northern tribes, that they had hitherto shown nothing bit the most determined hos- liiily, and appeared to hate our very name. They are now inclined to be quiet, and it is to be hoped their fear of us, after the severe conflicts between us, will induce them to remain so. You are, perhaps, aware that the French had built many forts at the most commanding spots in the in- terior and on the lakes, all of which, when they gave up the country, Avere garrisoned by our troops, to keep the Indians under control. " All these forts are isolated, and communication between them is rare. It was in 17().'} that Pontiac first showed his hostility ,'igainst us, and his detcrnnnation, if possible, to drive us Irom the lakes. He was as cunning as he was brave ; and, as an Indian, showed more generalshij) than might be expected — that is, according to their system of war, which is always based upon stratagem. His plan of operation was, to sin'])rise all our forts at the same time, if he possibly could ; and so excellent were his arrangements, that it was only fifteen days after the plan was first laid that he succeeded in gaining possession of all but three ; that is, he surprised ten out of thirteen forts. Of course, the attacks were made by other chiefs, under his directions, as Pontiac eoidd not be at .ill the simultaneous assaults." " Did he unu'der the garrisons. Captain Sinclair } " said Alfred. " The niajor portion of them ; some were spared, and afterward were ransomed at high prices. I ought to have mentioned as a sijigular instance of the advance of this chief in comparison with other Indians, that at this time he issued bills of credit on slips of bark, signed with his totem, the otter ; and that these bills, unlike many of more civilised society, were all taken up and paid." "That is very remarkable in a savage," observed Mrs. Campbell ; " but how did this Pontiac contrive to surprise all the forts .? " " Almost the whole of them were taken by a singular stratagem. I'he Indians arc very partial to, and exceedingly dexterous at, a game called the ' Raggatiway ' : it is played 48 ' * i 1 1 English, iven us it llu'y .'(l lios- xe now r of us, hem to ich had the in- up ll»c Indians between wed his sible, to he Avas lip than stem of plan of I time, if oements, laid that that is, e attacks Pontiac ?" said red, anil to have his chief lie issued Item, the civilised red Mrs. irpvise all singular ^eedingly is played ! \ THE SJrm.KItS IN CANADA with a ball and a iong-handled sort of racket. lliey divide into two parties, and the ohjrvL of each parly is to drive the hall to their own goal. li is something like hurley in England or g«)lf in Scotland. Many huiulreds are sometimes engaged on hoth sides ; and the Europeans arc so fond of seeing the activity ami dexterity shown by the Indians at this game, that it was very common to reipiest them to play it, when they happened to be near the forts. Upon this, Pontiac arranged Ins i)lan, which was, that his Imiians should connnence tiie game of ball under the forts, and after j)laying a short time, strike the ball into the fort : of course, some of them would go in for it ; and having done this two or three times, and recommenced the play to avoid sus})icion, they were to strike it over again, and follow it up by a rush after it through the gates : and then, when they were all in, they would draw their concealed weapons, and overpower the unsuspicious garrison." " It was certainly a very ingenious stratagem," observed Mrs. Campbell. " And it succeeded, as I have observed, except on three forts. The one which Pontiac directed the attack uj)on himself, and which was that which he was most anxious to obtain, was Detroit, in which, as I have before observed, my uncle was garrisoned ; but there he failed, and by a singular circumstance." " Pray tell us how. Captain Sinclair," said Emma ; " you don't know how much you have inteiested me." " And me, too, Captain Sinclair," continued Mary. " I am very happy that I have been able to wear away any portion of your tedious journey. Miss Percival, so I shall proceed with my history. "The fort of Detroit was garrisoned by about three hun- dred men, when Fontiac arrived there with a large force of Indians, and encamped under the walls, but he had his warriors so mixed up with the women md children, and brought so many articles for trade, that no suspicion was created. The garrison had not heard of the capture of the other forts which had already taken place. At the same time the unusual number of the Indians was pointed out to Major Gladwin, who commanded the fort, but he had no suspicions. Fontiac sent word to the major, that he wished 4.9 D fr t \ 'ii I { ii TMK SKTTI.KUS IN CANADA to 'have a talk' with him, in order to ccineiit more I'ully the frieiidsliip belweeh the Indians and the I'ln^Hsli ; and to this Major (iladwin eonsented, apjxuntin^ the next day to receive Pontiac and his eliieis in the i'ort. '•Now it so I'upjjencd that Major (iladwin hail employed an Indian womau to m.jke him a [)air of moccasins out of a very cm'ioiis marked elk-skin, 'llu! Indian woman brouum belt, the receipt of which by the major was, as the iiidian woman had informed them, to be the signal for UK- chiefs and warriors to commence the assault, the major and his ollicers drew their swords half out of their scabbards, and the troops, with their nmskcts loaded and bayonets fixed, ap})cared outside and in the council-room, all ready to present. Pontiac, brave as he really was, turned pale : he perceived that lie was discovered, and consecpiently, to avoid any open detection, he fmished his speech with many profes- sions of re<;ard for the Eni^lish. Major (/ladwin then rose to rcMly to him. r.nd immediately informed him that Le w.is aware of his plot and his nun'derous intentions. Pontiac denied it ; but Major Gladwin stepj)cd to the chief, and drawin*;' aside his blanket, exposed liis rifle cut short, which left Pontiac and his chiefs without a word to say in rei'y. Major Gladwin then desired Pontiac to quit the fort innne- diately, as otherwise he should not be able to restrain the indi<>nation of the soldiers, who would immolate hin> and all his followers who were outside of the fort. Pontiac and his chiefs did not wait for a second intimation, but made all the haste they could to _i!;et outside of the gates." "Was it j)rudent in Major Gladwin to allow Pontiac and his chiefs to leave, after they had come into the fort with an intent to nmrder him and his men.'*" said Henry Campbell. ''Would not the Major have been justified in detaining them } " " I certainly think he would have been, and so did my uncle, but Major (iladwin tbought otherwise. He said that he had promised safe conduct and protection to and from the fort before he was aware of the conspiracy ; and, having made a promise, his lionour would not allow him to dej)art from it." '' At all events, the n)ajor, if he erred, erred on the right side," observed Alfred. " I think myself th.it he Avas too scrupuh)us, ami that I in his place should have detained sonu- of them, if not Pontiac himself, as a hostage for the good behaviour of the rest of the tribes." •' Th'^ result proved that if Major Gladwin had done so he would have done wisely ; for t!ie next day Pontiac, not at all disarmed by Major Gladwin's clemency, made a most furious attack upon the fort. Every stratagem was resorted to, but the attack failed. Pontiac then invested it, cut off all their 51 THK. SKI ri.EHS !N CANADA sii|)plic.s, .'iik! the f^Hirisoii whs rctluciil to ^rcat distress. liiiL I must break oil" now, for lure we are at Trois Hivieres, where we shall remain for the iiijuht. I hope you will not find your aceonunodutions very uneond'ortable, Mrs. Campbell : I tear as we advance yau will have to ])ut up with worse.' "And we are fully prepared for it, Captain Sinclair," replied Mr. Campbell ; " but my wife and my nieces have too nmch <;ood sense to expect London hotels in the wilds of Canada." The hdicaux were now on shore, and the party landed to pass the night at the small stockadeil village of Trois Rivieres. I' < I .° 1 1 J' it ; ■ i til CHArXER VIII Captain Sinclair having stated that they wouUl have a longer journey on the following day, and that it woidd be advisable to start as soon as possible, they rose at day- light, and in half-an-hour had breakfasted, and were again in the boats. Soon after they had pushed into the stream and hoisted the sails, for the wind was fair, Mr. Campbell inquired how far they had to go on that day } " About fifty miles, if we possibly can," replied Captain Sinclair. " We have made seventy-two miles in the first two days ; but from here to Montreal it is about ninety, and we are anxious to get the best part over to-day, so that we may land on a cleared spot which we know of, and that I feel quite sure in ; for, 1 regret to say, you must trust to your tents and your own bedding for the night, as there is no habitation large enough to receive us on the river's side, anywhere near where we wish to arrive." "Never mind. Captain Sinclair, Ave shall sleep very well, I dare say," replied Mrs. Campbell; "but where do all the rest of the party sleep .'' — there is only one tent." " Oh ! never mind the rest of the party ; we are used to it, and your gentlemen won't mind it ; some will sleep in the bateaux, some at the fire, some will watch and not sleep at all." After some further conversation, Mary Percival observed to Captain Sinclair : " You had not, I believe, Captain Sinclair, quite finished your account of Pontiac where you left off .'52 i 11 ( distress. Itivirres, 1 not iiiui iipbcll : I •sc. ," irplicd too inucli C'aiKula." c(l to pjiss kficres. ouUl have , it would ;e at ilay- ^erc again Ijc stream Cairipbell (I Captain e first two ty, and we at we may hat I feel st to your lere is no ver's side, very well, do all the re used to 1 sleep in not sleep bserved to n Sinclair, ju left off THE SFTTI-ERS IN CANADA yesterday, at the time when he was blocking the fort at Detroit. VV^ill you obHgc us by stating what afterwards took place }" " With great pleasure, Miss Percival. 'I'licre was great dillicuJty in relieving the fort as all comnnniication had been cut off; at last tlu^ (iovcrnor sent his aide-de-camp. Captain Dalyell, who contrived to throw hinisclf in tlu; fort with about two liinidrcd ;in(l fifty men. He shortly afterwards s.'diied out to all.ick the eiitrciiclinHiils ol' Ihe Indians, biil I'oiitiac having received inl(>lligre strict than ever, and the garrison sull'ered dreadfully. Several vessels which were sent out to su])ply the garrison fell into the hands of Pontiac, who treated the men very cruelly. What with the loss of men and c(»nstant watching, as well as the want of provisions, the garrison was reduced to the greatest privations. At last a schooner came ott' with supj)lies, which Pontiac, as usual, attacked with his warriors in their canoes. I'he schooner w.is oliliged to stand out again, but the Indians followed, and by their incessant fire killed or wounded almost every man on board her, and at length bo.arded and took possession. As they tvere climbing up the shrouds and over the gunnel of the vessel, the captain of the vessel, who was a most determined man, and resolved not to fall into the hands of the Indians, called out to the gunner to set fire to the magazine, and blow them all up together. This order was heard by one of Pontiac's chiefs acquainted with English ; he cried out to one of the other Indians, and sprang away from the vessel ; the other Indians followed him, and hurried away in their canoes, or by swimming as fast as they could from the vessel. The captain 53 ,1' THE Sr/m.ERS FN CANADA iii H' took adv.intii^fo of llu^ wind and arrived safe at the fort; and tluis was the jiarrison nlicvcil and those in the fort saved from destruction by the coin"at!,t' of this one man." " You say that I'ontiac is now dead, at least Martin Super tohl US so. How did he die. Captain Sinclair .'*" impiired Mrs. Campbell. " lie was kilh'd by an Indian, but it is dillieult to say why. For n>any years he had ma(h; friends wilh us, and he had r(N'eived a iibi-ral pension fn»in ihe (iovernmenl; but it appears that his hatred a;i,ainsl the l'jii;lish had aijain broken (Hit, and in a eouneii lu'hl by the Indians, lu; proposed assailirjvj us anew. After he had spoken an Indian buried his knife in his heart, but whether to i;ralify a private animosity (»r to .avoid a fin'ther warfare witJJ tliose who had always thinned their tribes, it is diliicidt to ascertain. One thin<^ is eertiin, that most of the Indian animosity a*Tainst the l"in<^lish is buried with him." "Thank you. Captain Sinclair," said Mary Percival, "for takiiireat fault of his char.ictcr, in our eyes, was his treachery; but we nuist remember that the whole art of Indian warfare is based upon strataj^em." " But his attackiuGj the fort after he had been so generously dismissed when his intentions were known, was surely very base," remarked Mrs. Campbell. "What we consider a generous dismissal, he probably mistook for folly and weakness. The Indians have no idea of generosity in warfare. Had Pontiac been shot, he would have died bravely, and he had no idea that, because Major Gladwin did not think proper to take his life, he was there- fore bound to let us rem.iin in possession of his lands. But 54 i (♦ fort ; and lort saved rlin Super iiu|uirc(l n say why. u\ lu> had il ; hut it liii hi'okcii proposed iai) huried a private c who hail lin. Om' ity against cival, " for y is a very lore in his w harsidy. at coiiraj^e ins haviii<; hined, — no to (h'ivc ns nisei f (and >ndered at, 'I'he great ry ; hut we re is hased generously iurely very 2 prohahly ve no idea ;, he would I use Major was therc- iinds. But Tiir, sF/rriKiis in canada whatever trcaehery the Indians consider allowahle and proper in warfare, it is not a portion of the Indian eharacter ; for at liny other time his hospitality and good faith are not to he douhted, if he pledges himself for yojir safety. It is a pity that they arc not Christians. Surely it w(»uld niake a great in)provement in a character which, even in its unenlightened stat(>, has in it nuich to he admired. " When the form of worship and creed is simple, it is diftieult to make converts, and the Indian is a clear reasoner. 1 once had a conversation with < ne of the chiefs on the suhjcct. After we had conversed for some lime, he said. ' Vou helieve in one (»od— so do we ; you call Mim hy one name — we call Him another; we don't speak the sanu; Language, that is the reason. You say, suppose you do g«»od, you go to the land of Good Spirits — we say so too. 'i'hen Indians and Yangces (that is English) hoth try to gain the same ohject, oidy try in not the same way. Now I think it nnich hettcr that, as we all go along together, that every man paddle his own canoe. 'J'hat is my thought.' " " It is, as you say, Captain Sinclair, ditiicult to argue with men who look so straightforward and arc so practical in their ideas. Nevertheless," said Mrs. Camphell, "a false creed must often lead to false conduct; and whatever is estimjible in the Indian character, would be strengthened and improved by the infusion of Christian principles and Christian hopes, — so that 1 nmst still consider it very desirable that the Indians shotdd become Christians, — and I trust ti.at by judicious and discreet measures such a result may gradually be brought about." It was two hours before sunset when they arrived at the spot at which they intended passing the night ; they landed, and some of the soldiers were employed in setting U|) the tent on a dry hillock, while others collected logs of wood for the fire. Martin Super brought on shore the bedding, .'ind, assisted ])y Alfred and Henry, ])laced it in the tent. Captain Sinclair's canteen provided sufficient articles to enable them to make tea, and in less than half-an-hour the kettle was on the fire. As soon as they had partaken of these refreshments and the contents of a basket of jirovisions procured at Trois Rivieres, the ladies retired for the night. Captain Sinclair stationed sentinels at different posts as a secin'ity from any r>5 » m i I; !h. vw ■'■■ ] t h 'I i. ■■•' II hi! ' ■ 11 ' •; < i t THE SETTLERS IN CANADA intruders, and then the remainder of the trooj)s with the other males composing tlie party lay down with their feet toward a large fire, composed of two or three trunks of trees, which blazed for many yards in hcigiit. In a short time all was quiet, and all were in rej)ose except the sentniels, the sergeant and corporal, and Captain Sinclair, who relieved each other. The niglit passed without any disturbance, and the next morning they re-embarked and ]>ursu('d their coiu'se, Relore sunset they arrived at the town of Montreal, where it was arranged that they should wait a day. Mr. Canipbell had a few purchases to make here, whicli he completed. It had been his intention also to procure two of the small Canadian horseS; but by the advice of Captain Sinclair he abandoned the idea. Captain Sinclair pointed out to him, that having no forage or means of subsistence for the animals, they would be a great expense to him during the first year without being of much use ; and further, tliat in all probability, when the garrison was relieved at Fort Frontignac on the following year, the officers would be too glad to part with their horses at a lower price than what they could be purchased for at Montreal. Having a letter of introduction to the Governor, they received every attention. The society was almost wholly French ; and many of the inhabitants called out of politeness, or to gratify their curiosity. The French ladies shrugged up their shoulders, and exclaimed, " Est-il possible.'*" when they heard that the Campbells were about to proceed to such a distant spot and settle upon it. The French gentlemen told the Miss Campbells that it was a great sacrifice to bury so much beauty in the wilderness ; but what they said had little elfect upon any of the party. Captain Sinclair offered to remain another day if Mr. ('ampbell wished it; but, on the contrary, he was anxious to arrive as so(m as possible at his destination; and the following morning they again embarked, having now about three hundred and sixty miles to ascend against the cin-rent and the occasional rapids. It would take too much sj)ace if I were to narrate all that took place during their difficult ascent ; how they were sometimes obliged to land and carry the cargoes of the boats ; liow one or two hatcaiix were u|)set and some of their stores lost ; and how their privations increased on each following day of their 66 >i ;i TFIK SRTTl-r.PS IN CANADA with the their feet s of trees, t time all tinels, tlie ► relieved the next ;. Before M'e it was )ell liai] a . It had Canadian ibandoned at having liey would lOut beinfir when the following leir horses sed for at liovernor, )st wholly )oliteness, iigged up dien they o such a men told ) bury so lad little rt'ered to t, on the )le at his iiibarked, o ascend »nld take ok place )metimes how one ost ; and of their journey. I have too nuioh to relate to enter into this portion of the narrative, altl.ough there might be much interest in the detail ; it will be sufficient to say that, after sixteen days of some peril and much fatigue, and of consider- able suffering from the clouds of mosquitoes which assailed them during the night, they were landed safely at Fort Frontignac, and treated with every attention by the com- mandant, who had received letters from the Clovernor of Quebec, desiring him to do all that he j)ossibly could io serve them. The connnandant, Colonel Forster, had shown Mr. Cami)bell and his })arty the roon)s which had been provided for them, and now, for the first time after many days, they found themselves all together and alone. After a short conversation, in which they canvassed and commented upon the kindness which they had received, and the difficulties which they had, in consequence, surmounted, during their long and tedious journey to (Quebec, Mr. Camjibell observed : " My dear wife and children, we have thus far jM'oceeded without serious casualty : it has pleased the Almighty to conduct us safely over a boisterous sea, to keep our spirits up by providing us with unexj)ecte(l friends .and supj)ort, and we now have arrived within a few miles of our destination. Hut let us not suppose that our perils and difficulties are terminated ; on the contrary, without wishing to dishearten you, I feel that they are about to commence. We have nnich ))rivation, much fatigue, and, perhaj)s, nnich danger to encounter, before we can exj)ect to be in comfort or in security ; but we nnist put our trust in that gracious Providence which has hitherto so mercifully j)reserved us, and at the same time not relax in our own enerifv and industry, which nnist ever accompany our faith in the Divine aid. It is long since we have had an opportiniity of being gathered together and alone. Let us seize this opportunity of pouring out our thanks to (lod for His nuMcies already vouchsafed, and praying for a continuance of I lis protection. I'A'en in the wilderness, let us walk with Him, trust in Him, and ever keep Him in our thoughts. We nnist bear in mind that this entire life is but n pilgrimage; ; that if, during its course, we should meet with atlliction or distress, it is His appoititment, and designed undoid)te(lIy for oin* good. It is our wisdom, as well as dut}', to submit patiently to whatever 57 ■:| I' it R ■! i ! 1'i M^ V h I »ll / ( ' ) ; i THE SETTLERS IN CANADA may befall us, never losing our courage or becoming dis- henrtened by siiiTering, but trusting to the mercy and power of Him who can and will, at His own good time, deliver us from evil." Mr. Campbell kneeled down, surrounded by his family, and, in a fervent and feeling address, poured forth his thanksgiving for past mercies and humble solicitation for further assistance. So powerfid and so eloquent were his words, that the tears coursed down the cheeks of his wife and iiieees; and when he had finished, ail their hearts were so fidl, that they retired to their be?ervice to you. I propose that the ladies shall ren)ain liere, while you, with such assistance as I can give you, proceed to your allotment, and prepare f(»r their reception," "^ A thousand thanks for your kind offer. Colonel -but no, no, we will all go together," interruj^tcd Mrs. Campbell ; "we can be useful, and we will remain in the tents till the house is built. Do not say a word more, Colonel I'orster, that is decided ; although I again return you many thanks for your kind offer." " If such is the case, I have only to observe that I shall send a fatigue party of twelve men, which I can well sj)an* for a few weeks, to assist you in your labours," replied Cokmel Forster. '■ Their rennmeration will not put you to a very great expense. Captain Sinclair has V(>luntecred to ta.ce charge of it," "Many thanks, sir," replied Mr. Campbell; "and as you observe that we have no time to lose, with your permission we will start to-morrow morning," " I certainly shall not dissuade you," replied the com- mandant, "although I did hope that I should have had the I. II J I :f! ?r. :i '! I ■i > THE SKTTT.ERS IN CANADA •pleasure of your company for a little longer. You are aware that I have the Governor's directions to supply you with cattle from our own stock, at a fair price. I hardly need say that you may select as you please." " And I," said Captain Sinclair, who had been in conver- sutioii with Mary Percival, and who now addressed Mr. Caniphcll, "have been niakincj another collection for you aiuoMi? my bi'other-oHicers, Avhich you were not provided will., and will find very useful, I may say absolutely necessary." " What may that be, Caj)tain Sinclair ? " said Mr. C'ampbell. "A variety of do^s of every description. I have a })ack of five ; and, althou<>;h not quite so liandsome as your pet do<;s in J^jnvIki» (Ik v overlook .lolm, lie was staii(liii<^ innnovablo, pointing;' Ut a ri<^m'c on the oilier bide of tlie stream, as fixed and motionless as IiimseH'. The <^irls started baek, as they beluld a tall ,t;aunt man, " My ^ood dressed in deer I ides, who stood le..:..n.j;" (ipon a lon^ ^ini ^ ith his eyes fixed upon them, ilis I'aee was hrowneil and wcather-bc.iten — indeed so dark that it was diflieidt to say i*" lie were of the Indian race or not. "it must be »i hunter, Emma," said Mary I'ereival ; "he is not dressed like the Indians we saw at (^uebee." "it must be," re})lied Kmma; "won't he speak .''" "We will wait and see," replied Mary. They did wait for i minute or more, but the man neitln '^Moke nor shifted his position. " I will sjieak to him, Mary," said Enn ; at t. man, you are Malaehi Bone, are you U'.i .'• "That's my name," replied the lu..il"r in a deej) voice; "and who on earth are you, and wlial aiu you iloin^ here .^ Is it a frolic from the fort, or wlv is it, that causes ail this disturbance } " " Disturbance ! — why, we don't make a ,i;ieat deal of nois(.' ; no, it's no frolic; we are come lo settle here, and shall be your neighbours." "To settle here! — why, what on earth do you mean, young woman ? Settle here !— not you, surely. " "Yes, indeed, we are. Don't you know Marlin Super, the trapper .'' He is with us, and now at work in the woods getting ready for raising the house, as you call it. — Do you know, Mary," said Emma in a low lone to her sister, " I'm almost afraid of that man, although I tlo speak so boldly." " Martin Super— yes, I know him," replied the liiinler, who without any more ceieniony threw his gun into the li(»llow of his arm, turned round, and walked away in the direction of his own hut. " V; ell, Mary," observed Emma, after a pause of a few seconds, during which tluy watched the receding form of the hunter, "the old gentleman is not over-polite. Suj)pose we go back and narrate our first adventure .'' " " Let us walk up to w here Alfred and Martin Super are at work, and tell them," replied Mary. 63 li . I hould he not like company .'' I should I' vc imagined that it would be ai^reeable rather than otherwise," replied Mary I'ercival. " Von may think so, miss; but Malaehi Hone thinks other- wise an( 1 if s natural ; a man who has lived all his life in the woods, all alone, his eye never resting, his car ever watchini; ; catchin!; at every sound, even to the breaking of a twi company but ; time that I pokeii a word hen he hasn't i bad. Us all ike it, and so ;r the work is xl, and Indian au«;hing ; " I innia." "You'd be of it, — and ourself, which him to dream he fort were uiy trees had igths. The )bells on the that for the were lighted, tvas prepared, by Martin and i.Irs. Campbell, assisted by the girls and the younger boys. After supper they all retired to an early bed ; Caj)tain Sinclair having put a man as sentry, and the dogs having been tied at different places, that they might give the alarm if there was any danger ; which, however, was not anticipated, as the Indians had for some time been very quiet in the neighbourhood of Fort Frontignac. CITAPTER X ri^ HE next morning, when they assembled at breakfast, after Mr. Campbell had read the prayers, Mary Percival said, " Did you hear that strange and loud noise last night } I was very much startled with it ; but, as nobody said a word, I held my tongue." " Nobody said a word, because everybody was fast asleep, I presume," said Alfred ; " I heard nothing." " It was like the sound of cart-wheels at a distance, with whistling and hissing," continued Mary. " I think I can explain it to you, as I was up during the night, Miss Percival," said Captain Sinclair. " It is a noise you nnist expect every night dm'ing the sunnner season ; but one to which you will soon be accustomed." " Why, what was it .^ " " Frogs, — nothing more ; except, indeed, the hissing, which, I believe, is made by the li/ards. They will serenade you every night. I only hope you will not be disturbed by anything more dangerous." " Is it possible that such small creatures can make such a din ? " " Yes ; when thousands join in the concert ; I may say millions." "Well, I thank you for the explanation. Captain Sinclair, as it has been some relief to my mind." After breakfast, Martiji (we shall for the future leave out his surname) informed Mr. Campbell that he had seen Malachi Bone, tin; Inmter, who had expressed great dissatis- faction at their arrival, and his determination to quit the place if they remained. 65 E f » I V i 'f> 'ft !i In l' I TUK SF.TTLRHS IN CANADA Surely, he hardly expects us to (|iiit the place to please nil "No," replied Martin; "hut if he were cankered in dis- position, >vhich 1 u'ill say Malachi is nut, lie n)i|;ht make it very unpleasant for you to remain^ by bringing the Indians about you." "Surely, he would not do that ?" said Mrs. Campbell. "No, I don't think he would," replied Martin; "because, you see, it's just as easy for him to go further off." " Hut why should we drive him away from his property any more than we leave our own?" observed Mrs. Campbell. " lie says he won't be crowded, nui'am ; he can't bear to be crowded." " Why, there's a river between us." "So there is, ma'am, but still that's his feeling. I said to him, that if he would go, I dared say Mr. Campbell would buy his allotment of him, and he seems to be quite willing to part with it." " It would be a great addition to your property, Mr. Campbell," observed ('/iptain Sinclair. " In the first place, you would have the whole of the jirairie and the right of the river on both sides, apj)arently of no consequence now, but as the country fills u|), most valuable." "Well," replied Mr. Campbell, "as I presume we shall remain here, or, at all events, those who survive me will, till the country fills up, I shall be most happy to make any arrangement with Bone for the purchase of his property.' " I'll have some more talk with him, sir," replied Martin. The second day was ])assed as was the first, in making preparations for erecting the house, which, now that they jiad obtained such unexpected help, was, by the advice of C'aptain Sinclair, considerably enlarged beyond the size originally intended. As Mr. Campbell paid the soldiers employed a certain sum per day for their labour, he had less scruple in emj)loying them longer. Two of them were good carpenters, and a sawj)it had been dug, that they might prepare the doors and the frames for the window-sashes which Mr. Campbell had taken the precaution to bring with him. On the third day a boat arrived from the fort, bring- ing the men's rations and a present of two fine bucks from the commandant. Captain Sinclair went in the boat to 66 ^'1 THE SIVITLKFIS IN (AN ADA ; to plcftSC red in (Hs- lit inukc it he Indians ipbcll. " because, is property . Campbell, m't bear to . I said to )bell would luite willing operty, Mr. first place, right of the ce now, but lie we shall me will, till make any l-operty.' :d Martin, in making that they e advice of Id the size ;he soldiers he had less were good Ithey might Indow-sashes bring with fort, bring- bucks from Ihe boat to procure some arlicirs whidi he rt'<|uir('(l, and re-turned in the evening. Tiie wrather continut-d fint-, and in llie ct)ursc of a week a great deal of tind)or was cut and s(|uared. During this time Martin had several meetings with the old hunter, and it was agreed that he should sell his property to Mr. Campbell. Money he appeared to care little about- indeed it was useless to him ; gunpowder, lead, flints, blankets, and tobacco, were the principal articles recpiested in the barter ; the aniount, however, was not precisely settled. An intimacy had been struck up between the old hunter and John ; in what manner it was difiicult to imagine, as they both were very sparing of their words ; but this was certain, that .John had contrived to get across the stream somehow or another, and was now seldom at home to his meals. Martin re))orled that he was in the lodge of the old hunter, and that he could come to no harm ; so Mrs. Cam|)l)ell was satisfied. " But what does he do there, Martin ^ " said Mrs. Camp- bell, as they were clearing away the table after sup])er. "Just nothing but look at the s(puiw, or at Malachi clean- ing his gun, or anything else he may .see. He never speaks, that I know of, and that's why he suits old Malachi." " He brought home a whole basket of trout this after- noon," observed Mary; "so he is not (piite idle." "No, miss; he's fishing at daylight, and gives one-half to you and the other to old Bone. He'll make a crack Inniter one of these days, as old Malachi says. He can draw the bead on the old man's rifle in good style already, I can tell you." " How do you mean, Martin ? " said Mrs. Campbell. " I mean that he can fire pretty true, ma'am, although it's a heavy gun for him to lift ; a smaller one would do better for him." " But is he not too young to be trusted with a gun, uncle ? " said Mary. "No, miss," interrupted Martin, "you can't be too young hre; the sooner a boy is useful the better; and the boy wi h a gun is almost as good as a man ; for the gun kills ccpially as well if pointed true. Master Percival must have his gtjn as soon as I am at leisure to teach him." " I wish you were at leisure now, Martin," cried Percival. " You forget, aunt, that you promised to Icirn to load aru! fire a rifle yourself," said Mary. 67 THE SETTLERS IN CANADA M r I " Nc, I do not ; and I intend to keep my word, as soon as there is time ; but John is so very young." " Well, Mary, I suppose we must enlist too ? " said Emma. " Yes ; we'll be the female rifle brigade," r'^'plied Mary, ]augl:ing. " I really quite like the idea," continued Emma ; " I will put up with no impertinence, recollect, Alfred ; excite my displeasu'*e, and I shall take down my rifle." " I suspect you will do more execution with you* eyes, Emma," replied Alfred, laughing. " Not upon a catamount, as Martin calls it. Pray what is a catamount ? " " A painter, miss." " Oh, now I know ; a catamount is a painter, a painter is a leopard or a panther. — As I live, uncle, here comes the old hunter, with John trotting at his heels. I thought he would come at last. The visit i-. to me, I'm sure, for when we first met he was dumb with astonishment." "He well might be," observed Captain Sinclair; "he has not often met with such objects as you and your sister in the woods." "No," replied Emma; "an English squaw must be rather a rarity." As she said this old Malachi Bone came up, and seated himself, without speaking, placing his rifle between his knees. " Your servant, sir," sai^ I 'I >: THK SETTLKUS IN CANADA in the wiUkrncss is not to l)c thrown away. Old Malachi is f?oiii,i;' further out, and if danger ocetn's, we shall know it from hiiM, for liie sake of the boy, and have his help too, if we need it." "There is nuieh j^ootl sense in Martin Snper's remarks, Mr. Campbell," observed Captain Sinelair. " You will then have Malaeiii Bone as an advanced guard, and the fort to fall back upon, if necessary to retreat." " And, perhaps, the most useful education which he can receive to pre2)are hiuj i'or his future life will be from the old hunter." "The only one which he will take to kindly, at all events/' observed Henry. "Let him fro, sir; let him go," said Martin. " 1 will give no positive answer, Martin,' replied Mr. Campbell. "At all events, I >vill permit him to visit '^he old man ; there can be no objection to that ; — but it is bedtime." CHAPTER XI W E nuist pass over six weeks, during which the labour was contimied without intermission, and the house was raised, of logs, scpiared and well fitted; the windows and doors were also put in, and the roof well covered in with large squares of birch-bark, firmly fixed on the rafters. The house con- sisted of one large room, as a dining-room, and the kitchen, with a floor of well-beaten clay, a smaller room, as a sitting- room, and three bedrooms, all of which were floored ; one of the largest of them fitted all round with bed-places against the walls, in the same way as on board of packets ; this roi)ni was for the four boys, and had two spare bed-places in it. The others, which were for the two girls and Air. and Mrs. Campbell, were much smaller. But before the house was half built, a large outhouse adjoining to it had been raised to hold the stores which Mr. Campbell had brought with him, with a rough granary made above the store-room. 'J'he interior of the house was not yet fitted up, although the furniture had been put in, and the family slept in it, rough as it was, in preference to the tents, as they were very much pri 70 THE SKT'l'LEllS IN CANADA 1(1 Mal.ichi shall know s help too, s rcMiiarks, 1 will then fort to fall ich he can J from the ill events/' L'plicd Mr. o visit '^he —but it is labour was s raised, of loors were ■ge squares louse con- le kitchen, 5 a sitting- eel ; one of :es against this room aces in it. and iMrs. house was n raised to with him, pm. 'J'he lough the 1 it, rough very much \, I aiuiuyed with nuis(|uitoes. The stores were now safe from the weatiier, and they had a roof over their heads, which was the grand object that was to be obtained. The carpenters were still very busy Httiiig up the interior of the house, and the other men Avere splitting rails for a snake-fence and also selecthig small timber for raising a high palisade round the premises. Martin had not been idle. The site of the house was just where the brushwood joined to the prairie, aiul Martin had been clearing it away and stacking it, and also collecting wood for winter fuel. It had been decided that the four cows, which had been tlriven round from the fort, should be housed during the winter in the small building on the other side of the stream, wliich had belonged to Malachi Hone, as it was surrounded with a high snake-fence, and sufficiently large to hold them and even more. The com- mandant had very kindly selected the nu)st (juiet cows to milk, and Mary and Emma I'ercival had already entered upon their duties : the milk had been put into the store- house until a dairy could be built up. A very neat bridge had been thrown across the stream, and ever) morning the two girls, generally attended by Heiny, Alfretl, or ('a|)tain Sinclair, crossed over, and soon became expert in their new vocation as dairy-maids. Altogether, things began to wear a promising appearance. Henry and Mr. ('am[)l)ell had dug up as fast as Martin and Alfred cleared away the brushwood, and the garden had already been croj)ped with such few articles as could be ])ut in at the season. The connnandant had some })igs ready for tlu; settlers ms soon as they were ready to receive them, and had more tiivan once come up in the boats to ascertain tht ir progress and to offer any advice that ho might consider useful. We must not, however, ibrget Malachi Bone. The day alter Bone had come to Mr. Campbell, I'.iiniia perceived him going away into the woods, with his riHe, i'ol lowed b} her cousin J(>hn, and being very curious to see his Indian wile, she persuaded Alfred and Caj)tain Sinclair to accompany her and Mary to the other side of the stream. The great point was to know where to cross it, but as .John had found out the means of so doing, it was to be presumed that there was a passage, and they set off to look for it. They found that, about half a mile up the strr;an, which there ran through I II- •i> ( ' J THE SETTLKUS IN CANADA tlic \V(hhI, .1 l.irj^c tree li.ul I»cen Mown clown and laid across it, and with the assistance of the youn^- nun, Mary and Emma passed it without much dillicnlty ; they then turned back by the side of the stream until they ap])r<»ached the lotIj;e of old Malachi. As they walked toward it, they could not perceive any one stirring ; but at last a dog of the Indian breed began to bark ; still nobody came out, am! they arrived at the door of the lodge where the dog stood ; when, sitting on the rioor, they perceived the Indian girl whom they were in search of. She was veiy busy sewing n pair of moccasins out of deer leather. She appeared startled when she first saw Alfred ; but when she perceived that the young ladies were with him, her confidence returned. She slightly bowed her head, and continued her work. "' Mow very yoinig she is," said Emma ; " why she cannot be more than eighteen years old." "I doubt if she is so much," replied Captain Sinclair. *'She has a very modest, unaffected look, has she not, Alfred ? " said Mary. "Yes; I think there is something very prepossessing in lur countenance." "She is t('0 young a wife for the old hunter, at all events," observed Alfred. "That is not unusual among the Indians,' said Caj)tain Sinclair; ^'a very old chief will often have three or four young wives ; they are to be considered more in the light of his servants than anythinn' else." "But she nmst think us very rude to talk and stare at her in this manner ; I suppose she cannot speak English." "I will sj)eak to her in her own language, if she is a Chippeway or of any of the tribes about here, for they all have the .same dialect," said (aptain Sinclair. Captain Sinclair addressed her in the Indian language, and the Indian girl replied ni a very soft voice. " She says her husband is gone to bring home venison." "Tell her we are coming to live here, and will give her anything she wants." Captain Sinclair again addressed her, and received her answer. " She says that you are be/iutiful flowers, but not the wild flowers of the country, and that the cold winter will kill you." 72 m 1 *■ 1 i« i 1 4 aid across Mary and m turned died the hey could he Indian ey arrived ^n, sitting Lhey were inuccasins I slie first ing hidies civ bowed le cannot lair, she not, iessmff m 1 events/' 1 Captain or four light of re at her she is a • they all lage, and >» ison. give her ived her the wild all you." THK Sl'/JTLKUS IN CANADA **TelI her she will find us alive next suiuintr, " said J'>uinia; "and, Captain Sinclair, give her this brooch of inine, and tell her to wear it for my sake. " Captain Sinclair gave the message and the (»rnament lo the Indian girl, who replied, as she looked up and smilcil at J'^nnua, " That she woidd jiever forget the beautiful lily who was so kiiul to the little strawberry-plant." "Really her language is poetical antl beautiful," observed Mary; "I have nothing to give her— Oh ! yvs, 1 have; here is my ivory needle-case, with some needles in it. 'Jell her it will be of use to her when she sews her nu)ccasins. Open it and show her what is inside." "She says that she will be able to work faster and better, and wishes to look at your foot, that she nuiy be gratelul ; so put your foot out, Miss I'ercival." Mary did so ; the Indian girl examined it, antl smiled and nodded her head. "Oh, Ca})tain Sinclair, tell her that the little boy who is gone with her husband is our cousin." Captain Sinclair re[)orted her answer, which was, " lie will be .a great hunter and bring home plenty of game by-and-by." "Well, now, tell her that we shall always be ha|)py to see her, and that we are going home again ; and ask her n;uue, and tell her our own." As Captain Sinclair interpreted, the Indian girl pronouncei! after him the names of Mary and Eiinna very distinctly, "She has your names, you perceive; iier own, translated into English, is the strawbeny-plant." They then nodded farewell to *' young Indian, and returned home. On the second ev ig after their visit, as they were at supper, the conversatioi -rned upon the Inniler and his young Indian wife, when Join ^vho had, as usual, been silent, suddenly broke out with " Co away to-morrow ! " "They go away to-morrow, John where do they go to .f* " said Mr. Campbell. " Woods," replied John. John was correct in his statement. I'arly the next morn- ing, Malachi Bone, with his riHe on his shoulder and an axe in his hand, was seen crossing the prairie l)elonging to Mr, Campbell, followed by his wife, who was bent double under 73 t I m I*: )'' Hi ■• J! r 4 il.) THE SKTTLRRS IN CANADA her burden, wliicli was cuni))()sc(l of all llic properly which the oUl hunter possessed, tied up in blankets. Me had left word the ni^ht before with Martin that he wouhl come back in a few days, as soon as he had sijuatted, to settle the bargain for his allotment of land made over to Mr. Campbell. This was just before they had sat down to breakfast, and then they observed that John was missing. " He w.is here just before ])rayers," said Mrs. Campbell. " He nmst have s'ipped away after the old hunter." "No doubt of that, ma'am," said Martin. "He wil? go with him and find out where he puts up his wigwam, and after that he will come back to you ; so there is no use send- ing after him ; indeed, we tlon't know which way to send." Martin was right. Two days afterward John made his appearance again, and remained very (piietly at home diu'ing the whole week catching fish in the stream or practising with a bow and some arrows, which he had obtained from Malachi Hone ; but the boy appeared to be more taciturn and more fond of being alone than even he was bt fore ; still he was obedient and kind toward his mother and cousins, and was fond of Percival's company when he went to take trout from the stream. It was of course after the departure of the old hunter that his log hut was taken possession of, and the cows put into the meadow in front of it. As the \vork became more advanced, Martin went out every day, accompanied either by Alfred or Henry, in pursuit of game. Mr. Campbell had {)rocured an ample supply of ammunition, as well as the rifles, at Quebec. These had been unpacked, and the young men were becoming daily more expert. Up to the present the supply of game from the fort, and occasional fresh beef, had not rendered it necessary for Mr. Campbell to have much recourse to his barrels of salt- pork, but still it was necessary that a suppl" should be procured as ofteii -is possible, that they might husband their stores. Martin was a certain shot if within distance, and they seldom returned without a deer slung between them. The garden had been cleared away and the pig-sties were finished, but there was still the most arduous portion of the work to commence, which was the felling of the trees to clear the land for the growing of corn. In this they could 74 J THE SF;m.KRS IN CANADA wliich the I lell word back ill a lie bargain bell. 'I'liis and then Campbell. ic wilJ go i»;wain, and ) use send- ;o send." made his me during practising lined from •e taciturn fore ; still id cousins, it to take initer that it into the 1 expect no assistance from the garrison ; indeed^ from the indulgence of the comniandaut, they had already obtained more than they could have expected, it was in the last days of August, and the men lent from Ihe garrison were about to be recalled ; the houses were completed, the pali- sade had been raised round the house and store-house, and the men were now recjuired .'it the fort. Captain Sinclair received several hints from the commandant that he must use all^ convenient despatch, and limit his absence to a few days more, which he trusted would be suiiicient. Captain Sinclair, who would willingly have remained in society which he so much valued, and who had now become almost one of the family, found that he could make no more excuses. He re[>orted that he would be ready to return on the 1st of September, and on the morning of that day the hateaux arrived to take back the soldiers, and bring the pigs and fowls which had been promised. Mr. Campbell settled his account with Captain Sinclair, by a draft upon his banker at (^uelutc, for the pay of the sokliers, the cows, antl the pigs. The Captain then took leave of his friends with mutual regret, and many kind adieus, and, a ic u^)anied by the whole of the family to the beach, embarkci^ >vilh all his men and pulled away fov the fort. .F' went out in pursuit supply of had been aily more 1 the fort, essary for s of salt- lould be and their nee, and en them, ties were on of the trees to ley could CHAPTER XII J. HE Campbells remained for some time on the shore of the lake watching the receding bateaux until they turned round the ])oint and were hidden from their sight, and then Ihey walked back to the house. Hut few words were exchanged as they returned, for they felt a sens.'ition of loneliness from having parted with so many of their own countrymen ; not that they were, with the exception of Captain Sinclair, cjmi- paoaions, but that, accustomed to the sight of the soldiers at their labour, the spot now apj^eared depopulated by their departure. Martin, too. and John, were both absent ; the latter had been two days away, and Martin, who had not yet found time to ascertain where old Malachi Bone had fixed his new abode, had gone out in search of it, and to mention to him Mr. Campbell's wishes as to John's visits to him, 75 J If. 'I 1 f1 ) u'l illE SlinuatS IN CANADA wliic'li \\v\'v becoming more fi'0(nioiit aiul uu»rc leii^tliciied (liaii Mr. ('aiupi)cll wislird lluin to be. When they ent«rretl I he house, i\ivy all sal down, anil Mr. ('ani|)l)ell then fir.sl s|)oke. '* Well, my ilearesl wife, here we are at last, left to oin*- selves and to our own resourees. I am not at all doubtful ol our iloin^ well, if we exert ourselves, as it is om* duty to do, I ^rant that we may have hardship to eond)at, di(iic*ulties li> overeome, ocoas'onal disappointments and losses to bear np ai^ainst ; but let us rceolleel how greatly we have, throu,jijh I'rovidenee, been already assisted and eneouraj^ed, how nmeh help we have reeeived, and how nmeh kindness we have e.xperieneed. Surely we on^lit to feel most grateful to Heaven for blessings already vouchsafed to us, and ought to have a firm and lively faith in Him, who has hitherto so kindly watched over us. Let us not then re|)ine or feel dispirited, but with pvitefu! hearts do our duty cheerfidly in that st.'ite of life to which it has pleased Him to call us." *' 1 agree with you, my dear husband," replied Mrs. Campbell; *' nay, I can .say with sincerity, that I am not sorry we arc now left to our own exertions, and that we have an opportunity of proving that we can do without the assist- .uiee of others. Up to the present, our trial has been nothing; indeed, I cannot fancy to myself what our trials are to be. Come they may, but from what (piarter I cannot form an idea : should they come, however, I trust we shall show our gratitude for the past blessings, and our faith derived from past deliverances, by a devout submission to whatever the Almighty may please to try or chasten us with." "Right, my dear," replied Mr. Campbell; "we will hope for the best ; we are as much under His protection here in the wilderness, as we were at Wexton Park ; we were just as liable to all the ills which flesh is heir to when we were living in opulence and luxury as we are now in this log-house ; but we are, 1 thank God, not so liable in our present position to for- get Him, who so bountifully provides for us and in His Avisdom ordereth all om* ways. Most truly has the jioet said — ' Sweet are the ' oiir- tiibttul of ity to do, lifiiciillies s to bear J, tlu'oii,i);li )o>v inucii wc liave atefiil to ought to tlicrto so e or t'et;l ;erfully in I>» us. lied Mrs. [ am not t we have he assist- has been trials are mot form hall show 1 derived whatever will hope 1 here in re just as ere living mse ; but ion to for- s wisdom TFIK Sr/ITI-KHS FN CAV ADA trials are to be! l)e|Knil upon it, the cow will kick down the pji'l, or the butter won't come ! " Or you'll get chapped fingers in the winter-time, and (( o give a what my chilblains on your feet," continued Mary. " That will be bad ; but Captain Sinclair says that if we don't take care we shall be frost-bitten and lose the tips of otn* noses." " That would be hard upon you Rmma, for you've none to spare," said Alfred. " Well, you have, Alfred, so yours ought to go first." " We must look after one another's noses, they say, ns wc cannot tell if our own ' in danger; and if we see a white sj)ot upon another's i -se, we must take a l)it of snow and rub it well ; a little delicate attention peculiar to this climate." " I cannot say that I do not know what my trials are to be," said Alfred — " that is, trials certain ; nor can Henry either. When I look at the enormous trimks of these trees, which we have to cut down with our axes, I feel positive that it will be a hard trial before we master them. Don't you think so, Harry ? " " I have made up my mind to have at least two new skins upon my hands before the winter conies on," replied Henry ; "but felling timber was not a part of my university education " "No," replied Alfred; "Oxford don't teach that; now, my university education " " Your university education ! " cried Emma. " Yes, mine ; I have sailed all over the universe, and that I call a university education ; but here come Martin and John. Why, John has got a gun on his shoulder ! He must have taken it with him when he last disappeared." " I suppose that by this time he knows how to use it, Alfred," said Mrs. Campbell. "Yes, ma'am," replied Martin, who had entered; "he knoM's well how to use and how to take care of it and take care of himself. I let Irin bring it home on purpose to watch him. He has fired and loaded twice as wc came back, and has killed this woodchuck," continued Martin, throwing the dead animal on the Hoor. "Old Malachi has taught him well, and he has not forgotten his lessons. ' 77 I THE SETTLERS IN CANADA >i , di I "What aiiimnl is tliat, Martin, — is it good to cat? "said Henry. " Not very pood, sir ; it's an animal thai l)urrows in the ground, and is very hurtiul in a garden or to tlie young niai/e, and we always shoot them when we meet witii tiiem." " It's a pity that it's not good to eat." "Oh ! you may cat it, sir; I don't say it's not fit to eat; but there are otiier things nuicli belter." "That's (juite suPicient for me, Martin," said Emma, "I shall not taste him ; at all events, not this time, whatever I may have to do by-and-by." " 1 spoke to old Bone, sir, and lie says it's all right ; that he won't keep him more than a day without first sending him to you to ask leave." "That's all I recpiire, Martin." "I'hey have been out these two days, and had only just come home when I arrived there. The game was still in the wood." " I shot a deer," said John. "You shot a deer, John!" said Alfred; "why what a usefid fellow you will be by-and-by." "Yes, sir; old Malachi told me th.'it the boy had shot a deer, and that he would bring it here to-morrow himself." " I am glad of that, for 1 wish to speak with him," said Mr. Campbell; "but, John, how came you to take the rifie with you without leave } " .John made no answer. " Answer me, John." "Can't shoot without a gun," replied John. " No, you cannot ; but the riHe is not yours." "Give it to me, and I'll .shoot everything for dinner," replied John. " I think you had better do so, father," said Henry, in a low voice ; " the temptation will be too strong." "You arc right, Hem*y," re])lied Mr. Campbell aside. '^ Now, John, I will give you the rifle, if you will promise me to ask leave when you want to go, and always come back at the time you have promised." " I'll always tell when I go, if mamma will always let me go, and I'll always come back when I promise, if " "If what.?" 78 THE SETTI.KHS I. TANADA •If." aside. ^ro1Pisc come et me " If I've killed," rtplied .lolin. "He moftiis, sir, that if he is on the track when his leave is out, that he must follow it ; hut as soon as he has either lost his game, or killed it, he will then come home. That's the feeling of a true hunter, sir, and you nuist not balk it." " Very true ; well then, John, recollect that you promise." "Martin," said Percival, "when are you to teach me to fire the rifle ? " "Oh, very soon now, sir; hut the soldiers are gone, and as soon as you can hit the mark, you shall go out with Mr. Alfred or me." "And when are we to learn, Mary .''" said Kmma. " I will teach you, cousins," said Alfred, "and give a lesson to my honoured mother." "Well, we'll all learn," replied Mrs. Campbell. "What's to be done to-morrow, Martin ?" said Alfred. " Why, sir, there are boards enough to make a fishing-punt, and if you and Mr. Henry will help me, I think we shall have one made in two or three days. 'J'he lake is full of fish, and it's a pity not to have some while the weather is so fine." " I've plenty of lines in the store-room," said Mr. Campbell. " Master Percival would soon learn to fish by himself," said Martin, "and then he'll bring as much as Master John." " Fish ! " said John with disdain. "Yes, fish. Master John," replied Martin; "a good hunter is always a good fisherman, and don't des|Mse them, for they often give him a meal when he would otherwise go to sleep with an empty stomach." '•'Well, I'll catch fish with pleasure," cried Percival, "only I must sometimes go out hunting." " Yes, my dear boy, and we must sometimes go to bed ; and I think it is high time now, as we must all be up to- morrow at daylight." The next morning Mary and Emma set off to milk the cows — not, as usual, attended by .some of the young men, for Henry and Alfred were busy, and Captain Sinclair was gone. As they ero.ssed the bridge Mary observed to her sister — " No more gentlemen to attend us lady milk - maids, Emma." "No," replied Emma; "our avocation is losing all its charms, and a pleasure now almost settles down to a duty." 79 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 IIIIM I.I 1^ 1^ ^ 1^ 12.0 1.25 11.4 II 1.6 fer ^ ^ .d> V] <^ /^ ^3 c^^ / y /^ Photographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MS80 (716) 872-4503 5^ <;c ;^ /, ^ fs \ . TFIR SETTLERS IN CANADA e< it ■ I I J. '1 \ -2i \ I k \ .•I Alfred and Henry are with Martin about the fishing- boa.," observed Mary. " Yes/' rephed Emma ; " but I fancy, Mary, you were thinking more of Captain Sinclair than of your cousins." "That is very true, Emma; I was thinking of him," re- pHed Mary gravely. " You don't know how I feel his absence." " I can imagine it, though, my dearest Mary. Shall we soon see him again .'* " " I do not know ; but I think not for three or four weeks, for certain. All that can be sj)are(l from the fort are gone haymaking, and if he is one of the officers sent with the men, of course he will be absent, and if he is left in the fort, he will be obliged to remain there ; so there is no chance of seeing him until the haymaking is over." " Where is it that they go to make hay, Mary ? " " You know they have only a sufficiency of pasture round the fort for the cattle during the summer, so th iy go along by the borders of the lake and islands, where they know there are patches of clear land, cut the grass down, make the hay, and collect it all in the bateaux, and carry it to the fort to be stacked for the winter. This prairie was their best help, but now they have lost it." " But Colonel Forster has promised papa sufficient hay for the cows for this winter ; indeed, we could not have fed them unless he had done so. Depend upon it. Captain Sinclair will bring the hay round, and then we shall see him again, Mary ; but we must walk after our own cows now. No one to drive them for us. If Alfred had any manners he might have come." " And why not Henry, Emma } " said Mary, with a smile. " Oh ! I don't know ; Alfred came into my thoughts first." " I believe that really was the case," replied Mary. "Now I'm even with you ; so go along and milk your cows." "It's all very well, miss," replied Emma, laughing; "but wait till I have learned to fire my rifle, and then you'll be more cautious of what you say." On their return home, they found the old hunter with a fine buck lying before him. NIr. Campbell was out with the boys and Martin, who wislied his oj)inion as to the size of the punt. 80 THK SETTLERS IN CANADA fisliing- 1 were m," re- eel his hall we • weeks, re gone he men, fort, he lance of •e roiincl TO along [;y know nake the . the fort leir best hay for have fed Captain see him 's now. iners he smile. Its first." "Now "but '11 be rou with a ,'ith the size of "How do you do, Mr. Bone?" said Mary. "Did John shoot that deer ? " " Yes ; and shot it as well as an old hunter, and the crealur' can hardly lift the gun to his shoulder. Which of you is named Mary ? " " I am," said Mary. "Then I've something for you," said old Malachi, pulling from out of his vest a small parcel, wrapped uj) in thin bark, and lianding it to her; "it's a present from the Strawberry." Mary opened the bark, and found inside of it a pair of moccasins, very prettily worked in stained porcupines' quills. " Oh ! how beautiful, and how kind of her ! 'I'ell her that I thank her, and love her very much. Will you .'*" " Yes ; I'll tell her. Where's the boy > " "Who, John? I think he's gone u]) the stream to take some trout; he'll be back to breakfast, and that's just ready. Come, Ennna, we must go in with the milk." Mr. Campbell and those who Avere with him soon returned. Malachi 15one then stated that lie had brought the buck killed by John ; and that, il' it suited, he would carry back with him a keg of gunpowder and some lead ; that he wished Mr. Campbell to calculate what he considered due to him for the property, and let him take it out in goods, as he required them. " Why don't you name your own price, Malachi ? " said Mr. Campbell. " How can I name a price ? It was given to me and cost nothing. I leave it all to you and Martin Sujier, as I said before." " You show great confidence in me, I must say. Well, Bone, I will not cheat you ; but I am afraid you will be a long while before you are paid, if you only take it out in goods from my store-house." "All the better, master; they will last till I die, and then what's left will do for the boy here," replied the old hunter, putting his hand upon John's head. " Bone," said Mr. Campbell, " I have no objection to the boy going with you occasionally ; but I cannot ])crmit him to be away always. I want him to come home the day after he has been to see you." "W^ell, that's not reasonable, master. \\c go out after 81 F Tllli SKTII.EIIS IN CANADA n r ,1 J It the ^iiine ; who knows where we in.iy dud it, how lon^- we iii.iy look lor it, and how far it may lead us? Must we }>ive u]) the ehase when close upon it, because time's uj) ? That'll never do. 1 want to make the boy a hunter, and he nmst learn to sleep out and do (.;verythin_j;' else as concerns a hiniter to do. You must let him be with me longer, and, if you please, when he comes back keep him longer ; but if you w ish him to be a man, the more he stays with me the better. He shall know all the Indian craft,! promise you, and the winter after this he shall take beavers and bring you the skins." "I think, sir," observed Martin, "it's all in rcisou what the old man says." "And so do 1," said Alfred; "after all, it's only seiulini"- John to school. Let him go, father, and have him home for the holidays." "I'll always come to you, when 1 can," said .John. "I am more satisfied at John's saying that than you might imagine," said Mrs. Campbell ; "John is an honest boy, and does not say what he does not mean." "Well, my dear, if you have no objection, I'm sure I will not raise any more." " I think I shall gain nu)re by John's affection than by compulsion, my dear husband. lie says he will always come when he can, and I believe him ; I have, therefore, lut ol)jec- tion to let him stay with Malachi Bone, at all events for a week or so at a time." " But his education, my dear." " He is certain to learn nothing now that this fever for the w^oods, if 1 may so call it, is upon him. He will, perhaps, be more teachable a year or two hence. You nmst be aware that we have no common disposition to deal with in that child; and however my maternal feelings may oppose my judgment, it is still stroJig enough to make me feel that my tlecision is for his benefit. We nmst not here put the value upon ixjinished education which we used to do. Let us give him every advantage which the peculiarity of his position will allow us to do ; but Ave are now in the woods, to a cer- tain degree returned to a state of nature, and the first and most important knowledge, is to learn to gain our liveli- hoods.* 82 If Till-: SKTTLKKS IN ( ANADA we jji;ivc TliuL'll he imist a hmitcv i], if you Lit if you le better. , and the you the sou w h.-it y seiuHiii!: home for ou miftht boy, null ure 1 will than by vays come no ol)jec- jnts for ii fever for 1, perhaps, be aware 1 in that )pose my 1 that my the value t ns give Is position to a cer- first and ur liveli- " Well, my dear, 1 think y<)n are correel in your views on the subjeet, and therefore, .h)hn, you may j^o to school with Malachi IJone ; come to see us when you can, and I expect you to turn out the Nimrod of the West." Old Malaehi stared at the conclusion of this speech ; Alfri d observed his surprise, and biu'st into a lit of laui;hler. lie then said, " 'I'he iMiglish of all that is, Malachi, that my brother John has my father's leave to go with you, and vou're to make a man of him." " He who made him nuist make a man of him," replied Hone : " 1 can only make him a good hunter, and that I will, if he and 1 are spared. Now, m.ister, if Martin will gi\ e me the powder and lead, I'll be oil' again. Is the boy to go?" "Yes, if you desire it," replied Mrs. Campbell; " con>e, John, and wish me good-by and remend)er your promise." John bade farewell to the whole party with all due de- corum, and then trotted olf after his schoolmaster. CHAPTER XIII IN the course of a week or two, things foinul their j)laces, and the family began to feel more comfortable ; there was also a degree of regularity and order established, which could jiot be effected during the time that the soldiers were em- ployed. Mrs. Campbell and Percival took upon them all the Avork inside and round the house during the morning ; the latter attending to the pigs and fowls, bringing water from the stream, &c. Mary and Emma milked the cows, and then assisted their mother during the day in washing, ike. Mr. Campbell instructed Percival, worked in the garden, and assisted as much as he could, where he might be found most useful ; but he was too advanced in years to be capable of much hard work. Alfred, Henry, and Martin Super were employed during the whole day, clearing the ground and felling the timber ; but every other day, one or the othei? went out with Martin into the woods to procure food, bring- ing home with them deer, wild turkeys, or other game, which, with an occasional piece of salt-pork, and the fish caught, were sufficient for the family consumption. Percival was 83 \ii I If i (»,■•■ , ■1 .i THE SRTTLKHS IN CAXADA now permitted to accoinp.'iiiy the hiiutiiiiUf-partics, and became somewhat expert with his rifle. He recpiired only a ULtlc more practice to be a good shot. They rose at l)ali-past five, — were all assembled to j)rayers at halt-past seven, previous to i^oiiii? to breakfast. They dined at one, and had a combined tea and siip])er at seven o'clock. At nine o'clock they went to bed. Helbrc two months had passed away, every Ihini? went on like clock-work. One day passed away so like another, that the time flew imperceptibly, and they wondered that the Sundays came round so cpiick. They had now time to unpack everylhinj;-, and the books which Mrs Campbell had selected and brought with her had been arranged on shelves in the parlour ; but they had not as yet nnich time to read, and were generally too tired before the day was over not to long for their beds. Indeed, the only interval of leisure during the whole day was between suj)j)er and bed-time, when they would all assemble in the kitchen and talk over the little matters which had occurred either during the chase or at home. lUit they were now in the middle of October, the winter was fast approaching, and they looked forward to it with some degree of anxiety. John had kept his word very sacredly. He Avas occasion- ally absent for three or four days, but if so, he invariably came to the house and remained a day or two at home. Alfred and Martin had long finished the fishing-pmit, and as it was light and easily handled, Henry and iVrcival went out in it to- gether, and when he was at home, John with I'ercival would pull half a mile out into the lake, and soon return with a supply of large fish. Mrs. Campbell, therefore, had salted down sufficient to fill a barrel for the winter's use. One day they were agreeably surprised by Captain Sinclair making his appearance. He had walked from the fort, to connnunicate to them that the hay had been gathered in, and would be sent round in a day or two, and also to inform Mr. Campbell that the commandant could spare them a young bullock, if he would Avish to have it for winter provision. This offer was gladly accepted, and, having })artaken of their dinner. Captain Sinclair was obliged to return to the fort, he being that night on duty. Previous, however, to his return, he had some conversation with Martin Super, unobserved by the rest of the party. Afterward he invited Alfred to walk 84 IH became a liLlle prayers ;y (lined o'clock, iths Iwul .)uc (lay :'cj)til)ly, (juick. e books her had id not as d before the only n sujjper kitchen :d either ,v in the luid they uccasion- bly came ItVed and was li^ht in it to- al would 11 with a id salted 1 Sinckiir ' fort, to :d in, and form Mr. a vouiii; provision. of their e fort, he is return, erved by 1 to walk THE SETTLERS IN CANADA back to the fort with him and return on the following morn- ing. Alfred agreed to do so ; and two hours before it w.'is dark they set off", and as soon as they were on the oppt)site side of the brook they were joined by Martin Super. " My reasons for asking you to come back with me were twofold," said Captain Sinclair to Alfred. " In tlu; first ])lacc, 1 wish you to know the road to the fort, in case it should be necessary to make any connmniicalion during the winter; secoiuily, 1 wished to have some conversation with you and Martin relative to information we have received about the Indians. I can tell you privately what 1 was unwilling to say before your nu)ther and cousins, as it would put them in a state of restlessness and anxiety, which could avail nothing .'ind only annoy them. The fact is, we have for some time had information that the Indians have held several coimcils. It does not appeal*, however, that they have as yet decided upon anything, although it is certain that they have gathered together in large nund)ers not very far from the fort. No doubt but they have Ereiu'h emissaries iiu'iting them to attack us. I'rom what we can learn, however, they have not agreed .•nnong themselves, aiul, therefore, in all ))robability, iu)thing will b(^ attem|)ted until ni-xt year, for the autumn is their season for sending out their war-])arties. y\t the same time, there is no secin'ity, for there is a great difference l)etween a jiniction of all the tribes against us and a connnon Indian war- party. We nmst, therefore, be on the alert, for we have a treacherons foe to deal with. And now, for your ])orf ion of interest in this all'air. If they attack the fort, which they may do, notwithstanding om* treaties with then), you of com*sc would not be safe where you are ; but, unfortiniately, you may not be safe eveji if we are not molested ; for when the Iiulinns collect (even though the main body decide upon nothing), there arc always bands of five to ten Indians, Avho, having left their homes, Avill not return if they can help it without some; booty ; these are not regular warriors, or if warriors, not nr.ich esteemed by the tribe ; in fact, they are the worst classes of Indians, who are mere robbers and banditti. You must, there- fore, be on the look-ou* for the visits of these j)eople. It is fortunate for you that old Rone has shifted his abode so many miles to the westward, and that you are on such good terms with him, as it is not verv lik(d3' that any j)arty of Indians 85 I ^ ^I»«w . THE sr/rn.EiJS in Canada 1 h '5i' iM $'■ (S !|. :■:( iii' M 1^ 1 ' 1. 1^1 !, lii !l c.in approacli you without his mcctin«jj witli them or tlieir tr.'ick (hiring his excursions." "That's true, Captain," observed Martin, "and I will ^n myself and put him on his j^uard." " I^iit, will they not attack him before they attack us?" said Alfred. '• VV'hy should they?" replied Sinclair. "He is as much an Indian almost as they are, and is well known to most of them. Hesides, wha^ would they ^aiu by attacking; him ? 'I'iiese strao-glinijf parties, which you have to fear, are in quest of booty, and will not expect to Hud anythini>; in his wigwam except a few furs. No ; they will not ventm'c near his riHe, which they fear, v/hen there is nothini;' to be obtained by so doing. I mention this to you, Alfred, that you may be ])re- ])are{l and keep a sharp look-out. It is very possible that nothing of the kind may occur, and that the winter may pass away without any danger, and I nu*ntion it to you and Martin, as I consider that the probabilities are not sufficient to warrant your alarming the other members of the family, especially the female portion of it. How far you may con- sider it advisable to connnunicate what has now passed to your father and Henry, it is for you to decide. As I said before, I do not imagine you have much to fear from a general attack ; it is too late in the year, and we know that the councils broke up without coming to any decision. You have only to fear the attempts of small jiarties of marauders, and I think you are quite strong enough, both in numbers and in the defences of yoin* habitation, to resist them success- fidly, if you are not suddenly siu'prised. That is all that you have to fear ; and now that you are warned, half the danger is over." "Well, Captain, I'll leave you now," said Martin, "I shall go over to old Malachi's to-night ; for it occurs to me that any attack is nu)rc likely to be made between the fall of the leaf and the fnW of the snow than afterward ; so the sooner I ))ut Malachi on his guard the better. Good-evening, sir." Captain Sinclair and Alfred continued on their way to the fort. They had contracted a strong friendship, and were unreserved in their coumHuiication with each other. "You have no idea, Alfred," said Captain Sinclair, "how the peculiar position of your family occupies my thoughts. 86 or their will go ck us ? " as much most of [\rr him ? in quest wily for you '"Hid a party of soldiers." "There would be much dillicidty about that, Alfred/ replied ('aptain Sinclair; "if there were siiflicient danger to make that dem.uul noon the connnandant, the same danger woidd require that lie should not weaken his force in the fort ; no, you would liave to retreat to the fort, and leave your farm to the mercy of the Indians." "It certainly would be the wisest plan of the two/' replied Alfred ; "at all events, we cotdd send the womtin. But the Indians have not come yet, and we nuist hope that they will not." The conversation Avas then changed, and in lialf-an-hour more they arrived at the fort. Alfred was welcomed at the fort by Colonel Forstcr, with whom he was a great favoin-ite. "^riie Colonel could not re- frain from cx[)ressing his opinion, that Mr. Campbell and his family were in a position of some danger, and lamenting that the female portion of the family, who had been brought up with such very different prospects, shoidd be so situated. Me even ventured to hint that if Mrs. Campbell and the two Misses Percival would pass the winter in the fort he would make arrangements to accommodate them. IJut Alfred .at once replied, that he was convinced no inducement would ]>ersuade his mother or cousins to leave his father ; they had shared his prosperity, and they would cling to him in adversity ; that they all were aware of what tliey would have to risk before they came out, and his father preferred a life of lionourablc itidepcndencc attended with danger, to seeking the assistance of others. " Hut still I cannot perceive any reason for the ladies remaining to encounter the danger." " The more we are, the stronger we are to rej^el danger," replied Alfred. " But women surely will only be an encumbrance ! " " I think differently," replied Alfred. " Young and delicate as my cousins are, they will not shriidv anv more than iny 88 J ■otccting replied do well mce, wc AllVod; anger to .' danger e in tlie id leave ' replied But the tliey will ■-an-h(Mir tcr, Avith I not re- l and his ;ing that )ught up ed. lie the two le would 1 at once )ersuade ired his y ; that before lourablc sistance e ladies anger," dclieatc han my 1 TflE SFTTLKHS IN CANADA mother when their services ;ir(; required. They now can all of them use a rifle, if rctjiiired, and to defend a house, a deternnned woman is almost as ell'cetive as a man. Depend upon it, if it comes to llie necessity, llu^y will do so. Wni see, therefore. Colonel, that by taking away our ladies, you will weaken our I'orce," continued Alfred, laughing. "Well, my dear fellow, i will press it lU) nu)re. Only re- collect that 1 shall always be ready to send you any assistance when re(pjired." " I have been thinking, Colonel Forsler, that, as we have no horses at present, if you have .any rockets, they might hi; use- ful in such a ease. At the distance we are IVom y<»" <'i rocket would be seen immediately if iired at night, and I promise you, that it shall not be Iired without great necessity." " I am iji-lad that vou hav(? mentioned it, Alfred ; v<>n shall have a dozen to take with you. ^'ou go back with the boats that carry the hay to-morrow morning, do you not .^ " "Yes; I shall take th.it opjiortunity, to save wearing out my shoes, as we have no cobbler near to us. I presume it will be the last tri|> made by the boats this season ?" "Yes," replied the Colonel, "tin; frost will soon set in now. In another fortnight W(; shall probably be visited Mith a heavy fall of snow, and tlu' groinid will then be covered till spring. Hut I suppose we shall see or hear from you occasionally.^" "Yes; as soon as I can |)ush along in my snow-shoes, I will j)ay you a visit," replied vMfred, " but I have that art to learn yet." The following morning the sky was clear and the day brilliant. The sun shone upon tlu; dark, scarlet-tinged foliage of the oaks, and through the transparent yellow leaves of the maple. A slight frost had appeared for two or three morninirs about a month back, and now thev were eniovini' what was termed the Indian summer, which is a return of fair and rather warm weather for a short lime previous to the winter setting in. The soldiers were busy carrying the hay down to the bateaux, and, before noon, Alfred bad{^ farewell to Colonel Forster and the other officers of the fort, and, accom]iani(>d by Captain Sinclair, went down to embark. y\ll was ready, and Alfred stepj)e(l into the boat ; Captain Sinclair being on duty and not able to aecompnnv him back. . r ■'f TFIF. SRTTI.KUS IN CANADV "I sliall not fiil to ^ivc directions to the sentries about llio rockets, Alfred," s.iid C.iptain Siiiol.iir, "and so tell your niollu'r and eoiisins; and mind to show them how to fire them olK I'roiM out of the barrel of a nnisket. (iood-bye; God bless you, my dear fellow." "(Jood-bye," repIitMJ Alfred, as tlu; boats pulled from the shon*. 1 ?!) I Mr r 1 1 f. ! CTTAPTr]!! XIV A.I'"ri'iR Alfred's return from tlu; fort, a few days passed away without any incident : Martin had paid a visit to Malaehi Hone, who had promised that he would be on the look-out and woidd nivc innnediate ir)formation and assistance in ease; of any hostile measiu'cs on the part of the Indians. lie told Martin, that in a few days he would discover what had taken place and what mii;ht be looked forward to. When Martin rctin'ued with his connuunic'ilion, Alfred was satisfied, and did not ac(juaint anybody except his brother Henry with the information which he had received from Captain Sinclair. The monotony of their life was, however, broken in upon by the arrival of a corporal from tlu? fort, who was the bearer of the first (les|)atches which they had received since their arrival at the settlem(Mit. Iiett(n*s, yes letters, not only from Quel)ee but from En<^land, wt^re announced. The whole house w.is in confusion, all crowdinj;' round Mr. Campbell while he unsealed the lar^e packet. I'Mrst a bundle of l^iii^lish news- papers from the (lovernor of Quebec — these were laid aside; a letter from Mr. Campbell's a,<>ent at Quebec — this was on business and could wait his leisure; then the letters from I'^njifland — two lonland, and a lari>;e one on foolsca)) with "On His Majesty's Servict^" directed to Mr. Alfred Campbell. Each party seized upon their letters, and hastened on one side with them. Mrs. Campbell l/oinnf the (mly one who had no correspondent, anxiously watched the countenance of Alfred, who, after a hasty glance, cried out, " I am confirmed to my rnuk, my dear mother; I am a lieutenant in his Majesty's ser- vice — huzza ! Men 's a letter enclosed from Captain TiUmley ; 90 M cs nhoiit tell your \V to fire Dod-bye ; from the s passed Miihichi look-out Mil cast! He told fid taken 1 Martin ied, and with thr lair. in upon e hearer ee their lot only ic whole dH while sli news- i aside ; was on rs from >s Pater- 's a^ent Pn Mis Eacii ne side had no Alfred, to my ;y's ser- uinley ; ! 1 TIIK SFTTLRHS IN CANADA I kno'" his han(hvrilin<;." AllVcd received the coii^r.iluln- tions of the whole party, handed the ollicial letter to his mother, and then coinnicnccd tlu- perusal of the one iVoui Captain I.uiuley. After a short silence, dinin;;' which they were all occupied with their correspondi'iice, Mr. Caniplxll said, "I also have o(k,(1 m;ws to conmnniicale to you; Mr. II. writes to me to say, that Mr. Dounlas Caniphell, on fnid- iuif the <;reen-houses and hot-houses so well slocked, con- sidered that he was hound to pay for the plants; that they hav(! been valued at seven hundred jiounds, and that he has paid that money into my ;i';('nt's hands. This is cxtremily liberal of Mr. Douglas ('.impbcll, and I certainly did not cxjicct, as 1 found plants there on my takin<>; possession, that I was entitled to any renunieration for what I left. However, I am too poor to refuse his offer from any fcelin<>s of delicacy, and shall therefore write and thank him for his j^encrous !)ehaviour," Alfred had read the letter from Captain Lundey, which made him very thou<;htful. The fact was, ins pro- motion and the ohstrvations in Captain Linnley's letter had broui^ht back all his former re<;ret at havini;- (piitted the service, and he was very melancholy in conse(|uence ; but as his cousins read their letters aloml, he gradually recovered his s[)irits. At last, all the letters were read, and then the newsp.ajx'rs were distributed. No more work was (h)nc that day, and ill the cvenim; thev all sat round tin; kitchen fire and talked over the intelligence they had received until long after their usuid time of retiring to bed. " I have been thinking, my dear I'^mily," said Mr. Cam|)bell, the next morning before they (piitted their sleeping-room, "what a very seasonable siip[)ly of money this will be. My funds, as you have seen by the account of my (Quebec agent, were nearly exhausted, and we have many things yet to procure. We sliall require horses next year, and we must increase our stock in every way ; indeed, if we could have another man or two, it would bt; very advantageous, as the sooner we cle.ar the ground, the sooner we shall be inde- pendent." " I agree with you, Campbell ; besides, we shall now have Alfred's half-pay, poor fellow, which will liel]) us very much ; I have been thinking more of him than anything else this '91 m Mi . i i li ' f; l> 1 I THE SRTTI.ERS IN CANADA night ; I watched him when he read Captain Linnley's letter, and I well understood the cause of his seriousness for some time afterward ; I almost frel inclined to let him return to his profession ; it would be painful parting with him, but the sacrifice on his part is very great." ''Still it's his duty," replied Mr. Campbell, "and, more- over, absolutely necessary at present, that he shoidd remain with us. When we are more settled and more independent of his assistauce we will talk over the subject." In the meantime, ivlary and l^Lnnna had gone out as usual to milk the cows. It was a beautiful clear day, but there was a bracing air which cheered the spirits, and the sunshine was pleasantly warm in situations sheltered from the winds ; one of the few fine d.iys just before the rushing in of winter. They had milked their cows, and had just turned them out again, when they both sat down with their pails before them on a log, whick was in front of Malachi's lodge, now used as a cow-liouse. " Do you know, Mary," said Emma, after n pause, " I'm almost sorry that I h:ive received a letter from Miss Paterson." " Indeed, dear I'^nnna ! " "Yes, indeed it has unsettled me. I did nothing but dream all last night. Everything was recalled to \\\y mind — all that I most wished to forget. I fancied myself again engaged in all the pin'suits of our nnicli-loved home; I was playing the harp, you were accompanying me on the piavio as usual; we walked out in the shrubberies; we took .in airing in the carriage ; all the servants were before me ; we went to the villages and to the almshouses ; we were in the garden picking dahlias and roses ; I was just going uj) to tlress for a very large dinner-]>arty, and had rimg the bell for Simpson, when I woke uji, and found myself in a log-hut, with my eyes fixed upon the rafters and bark covering of the roof, thousands of miles from Wexton Hall, and half-an-hour longer in bed than a dairy-maid should be." " I will confess, my dear FiUima, that I passed much such a night; old associations will rise up again when so forcibly brought to our remembrance as they have been by Miss Paterson's letters, but I strove all I could to banish them frojn my mind, and not indulge in useless repining." " Uepine, I do not, Mary, at least, I hope not, but one 92 3f! niley's letter, tiess for some liiii return to hinij but the '^nnd, inore- liould remain independent ; out ns usual ly, but there the sunshine Ti the winds ; in of winter. led them out before them now used as pause, " I'm iss Paterson." iiothiuj^ but to my mind myself again lome ; I was )n the piano we took nu ore me ; we were in the ijfoiug u|) to the bell for n a log-hut, 'ering of the lalf-an-hour much such so forcibly en by Miss »anish them >> ot, but one THE SETTLERS IN CANADA cannot well help regretting ; I cannot help remembering, as Macduff' says, that ' kucIi things were.' " " He n)ight well say so, Emma ; for what had he lost f his wife and all his children, ruthlessly nun'dered ; but what have we lost in comparison? nothing — a few luxuries. Have we not health and spirits? Have we not our kind uncle and aunt, Avho have fostered us — our cousins so attached to us ? Had it not been for the kindness of om* uncle and aunt, who have brought us up as their own children, should we, poor orphans, have ever been partakers of those luxuries w Inch yon now regret? Ought we not rather to thank Heaven th.-it circumstances have enabled us to show some gratitude for benefits heaped upon us ? How nnieh greater are these priva- tions to my uncle and aunt now that they are so much more advanced in years, and have been so nnieli longer accustomed to competence ami ease ; and shall we repine, or even regret, unless it is on their account ? Siu'ely, my dear Emma, not on our own." "I feel the truth of all you say, Mary," replied I'nnna ; ^' nay, all that you have now said passed in my own mind, and I have argued to myseif in almost the same words, but I fear that I am not (juite so miich of a ])hilosopher as you are; and, acknowledging that what you say is correct, I still have the same feeling — that is, I wish that I had not received the letter from Miss Paterson." " In that wish there can be no harm, for it is only wishing that you may not be tempted to repine." " Exactly, my dear Mary ; 1 am a ilaughter of Eve," replied Emma, laughing, and rising from her seat ; " 1 will put away Miss Paterson's letter, and I dare say in a day or two I shall have forgotten all about I'c. Dear Alfred, how glad I am that he is promoted; 1 shall call him Lieutenant Campbell till he is sick of it. Come, Mary, or we shall be keeping my uncle waiting; ccmie, Juno." Emma's calling Juno to follow her, reminds me that 1 have not yet introduced the dogs to niy little readers, and as they will have to play their ])arts in our history, I may as well do so at once. Captain Sinclair, it may be remembered, had procured five dogs for Mr. Camj)bell from ihe officers of the fort, — two terriers, which were named Trim and Snob ; Trim was a small dog and kept in the house, but Snob was 9S v < . ^' THi: siyrriJ'.HS in canada a very powerful biill-lerrier, aiul very savage ; a fox-liouiul bitch, the one wliich JMiiina had just called Jtino ; Hully, a \ery fine youni^ bull-dog, and Sanclio, tn old pointer. Al nij>ht, these doi;s were tied up: Juno in the store-house; Bully and Snob at the door of the house Avithiu the palisade ; Trim in doors, and old Sancho at the lod^e of Malachi IJone, where the cows were ])ut in at nii^ht. Mr. Campbell found it rather expensive at first feeding these dogs, but as soon as Martin and his comj)ani()ns brought home game, there was always plenty for thcni all. They were all very sharp and high-coiu'aged dogs, for they had been born in the fort and had been brought up to Inniting every kind of game indis- criminately ; and I need hardly add that they were excellent watch-dogs, and considereil by Mr. Campbell as a great pro- tectiim. For the next two days, the family remained ri^ther unsettled ; there was so much news in the newspapers ; so many recollections brought up by their perusal ; so much to talk about and discuss, that very little work was done. The weather, however, was now becoming much colder, and, for the last two days the sun had not shone. T'le sky was of one uniform, murky, solenni grey ; and everything announced that the winter was close at lianel. Martin, who had been hunting, when he came home bid them prepare for an im- mediate change in the weather, and his prediction was speedily verified. f li . ,t< CHAPTER XV IT was on the Saturday evening, when they had all as- sembleil round the fire, for it was more cold than it had hitherto been, that the moaning of the wind among the trees of the forest announced a gale of wind from the north- ward. "We shall have it soon," observed Martin, "winter mostly comes in with a gale." " Yes ; and this appears as if it would be a strong gale," replied Alfred. " Hark ! how the boughs of the trees are sawing and cracking against each other." " I reckon we may get our snow-shoes out of the store- house, John," said Martin, " and then we shall see how you 94 i 1* , :)X-liouml liully, a iter. A I •e-liouse ; palisade ; 'hi Bone, L-11 fuuiid 3 soon as here was liarp and fort and lie indis- L'xeellent reat i)ro- ;d rpther ipers ; so much to le. 'J'he and, for y was of inounced ad been r an im- ion was all as- it had ong the e north- mostly rale," rees are gji c store- low you IHK SKTTLKUS IN CANADA can get over the groiuid with them when yon go hunling. You have not shot a moose yet," "Is the moose the same as the elk, Martin ?" said Henry. " 1 do not think it is, sir ; yet I've heard 'loth names given to the animal." " Have you ever shot any } " said Mrs. Campbell. "■ \'es, ma'am ; many a one. They're (jueer anin)als ; they don't run like the other deer, but they trot as fast as the others run, so it comes to the same thing. 'I'hey are very shy, and diHicult to get near, except in the heavy snow, and then their weight will not allow them to get over it, as the lighter deer can ; they sink up to their shoulders, and Hoinider about till they are overtaken. You see. Master Percival, the moose can't put on snow-shoes like we can, and gives us the advantage over the animal." "Are they dangerous animals, Martin,^" inquired Mary Percival. "Every large animal is mt»re or less dangei'ous when it turns to bay, miss. A moose's horns sometimes weigh fifty pounds, and it is a strong animal to boot ; but it can't do anything when the snow is deep. You'll find it good eating, at all events, when we bring one in." " I'll bring one," said John, who was cleaning his rifle. " I daresay you will as soon as you can manage your snow- shoes," replied Martin. "The wind is getting up higher. I guess you'll not find your way back to Malachi's lodge. Master John, as you thought to do to-morrow morning." "It is certainly a dreadful night," observed Mrs, Campbell ; "and 1 feel the cold very sensibly." " Yes, ma'am ; but as soon as the snow is down, you'll be Avarmer." " It is time to go to bed," observed Mr. Cam])bell, "so put away your work : and, Henry, give me down the Bible." During that night the gale increased to almost a hurricane ; the trees of the forest clashed and crackled, groaned and sawed their long arms against each other, creating an unusual and almost appalling noise ; the wind howled round the palisades and fluttered the strips of bark on the roof, and as they all lay in bed, they could not sleep from the noise out- side, and the increased feeling of cold. It was also the first trial of this new house in severe weather, and some of the 95 I ■ii ?• ^ 1 I i-i- THE SJi'/lTLERS IN CANADA wukcful party were anxiously watcliing the result. Toward the niornin^ the storm abated, and everything was again quiet. In eonsequence of the restless night which they had passed they were not so early as usual. Ennna and Mary, when they came out of their room, found Martin and Alfred up and very busy with shovels ; and, to their astonishment, they perceived that the snow was at least three feet deep on the ground, and in some })laces had been drifted up higher than their heads. "Why, Alfred!" ciied Emma; "how shall we be able to go after the cows this morning.'' This is, indeed, winter come on with little warning." " It still snows," observed Mary ; " not much, indeed, but the sky is very black." " Yes, miss ; we shall have some more of it yet," observed Martin. " Mr. Cam})l)ell and Henry have gone to the store- house for more shovels, for we must work hard, and clear a footpath, and then get the snow up against the palisades." "What a sudden change," said lvn your rifle ; we can't affVjrd to hm't wolves ; their skins won't fet(!h a half-dollar, and their flesh is not fit for a do^, let alone a Christian. Let the vermin howl till he is tired ; he'll be off to the woods again before daylight." "There is certai.ily something very melancholy and dread- ful to me in that howl," said Emma ; " it frightens me." "What, Emma, afraid.''" said Alfred, going to her; "why yes, really she trembles ; Avhy, my dear l^^nnna, do you re- collect how frightened you and Mary were at the noise of the frogs M'hen you first came here ; you got used to it very soon, and so you will to the howl of a wolf. ' "There is some diflcrence, Alfred," replied Emma, shudder- ing as the howl was repeated. " I dcm't know how it is," said she, rallying her spirits, "but 1 believe it was reading Little Red Riding Hood when I was a child which has given me such a horror of a wolf; I shall get over it very soon, I have no doubt." "I must say, that it does not create the most agreeable sensation in my mind/' observed Mrs. Campbell, " but I was aware of what we were to encounter when we came here, and if it is only to be annoyed with the cry of a wild beast, we may consider that we get off* very cheaply." " I should feel much more at ease if all the rifles were loaded," said Mary Percival, in her usual quiet way. " And I too," said Emma. " Well, then, if that will at all relieve your minds, it is easily done," said Mr. Campbell ; " let us all load our rifles, and put them back in their rests." " Mine's loaded," said John. "And the rest soon shall be," said Alfred, "even the three appropriated for your use, mother and cousins. Now don't you feel some satisfaction in knowing you can load and fire them yourselves } the practice you had during the fine weather has not been thrown away, has it, dear Emma.''" " No, it has not, and I am very glad that I did learn it ; I am a coward in apprehension, Alfred, but, perhaps, if I was put to the test, I should behave better." 100 c(l before ;hcm out, put clown :ins won't , let alone le'll be off nd dread- nie. er; "why lo you re- c noise of to it very I, shudder- low it is/' as reading; I has given ery soon, I , agreeable ' but I was ame here, wild beast, rifles were linds, it is our rifles, the three Now don't id and fire ne weather d learn it ; )S, if I was TFIK Sl'VrrLKHS IN CANADA "That J really believe," replinl AllVed ; "a gale of wind at sea sounds very awful when down l)«.'low jerking about in your hannnoek. but when on deek, you don't eare a fig about it. Now the rifles are all loaded, and we may go to bed and slcej) sound." They did retire to rest, but all parties did not sleep very souiul ; the howling of one wolf was answered by another; I'ininiaand Mary embraced each other, and shudderetl as they heard the soinids, and it was long before they forgot their alarm and were asleep. CHAPTER XVI 1 HE next morning was bright and clear, and when l^'nima and Mary went out, attended by Alfred, to go and milk the cows, although the cold was intense, everything looked so brilliant and sparkling in the sunshine that they regained their spirits. The lake was still unfrozen, and its waters, which were of an azure blue, contrasted with the whole of the country covered with snow, and the sj)ruce firs with their branches loaded presented an alternate layer of pure white and of the darkest green. Birds there were none to be seen or heard. All was quiet, so quiet that as they stepi)ed along the path which had been cleared away to the cow-house, they almost started at the sound of their own voices, which the atmosphere rendered more peculiarly sonorous and ring- ing. Alfred had his rifle on his shoulder, and walked in front of his cousins. " I have come to prove that all your fears are groundless, my dear Emma, and that you need not have any alarm about a skulking, cowardly wolf," said Alfred. "Well, that may be," re[)licd Emma, "but still we are very glad of your company." They arrived at the cow-house without any adventure, let loose Sancho, who had been tied up, as it was decided that the dog should remain at home with the others, and proceeded to milk the cows. Having finished that task and supplied them with fodder, Mary Percival observed, as they were retracing their steps — " I must say that it would not only be more convenient but more agreeable if the cows were kept nearer to the house." 101 .V. i 1 i 1. i i I 1 mni TIIK SKT'ILKItS IN CANADA "It w isenl. Nixt }'ear, >vlien my lather has pnrehased his horses and his sheep, which he talks of doin^, wc .n-e to huihl a renidar yard ."nd sheds for all the animals close to the house, and palisaded roinid as the lioiise now is, witii a passa<:;e from one |)alisadc to tlu; other. Then it will he very convenient ; hut ' Home was n«)t hiiilt in ." day,' as tin; proverb says ; and we must, therefore, wait another winter." " And be devoured by the wolves in the meantime," rej)lied Emma, laii^hin^-. " Why, you are j^cttin^ over your fri<;ht already, l-iUima." " Yes ; 1 feel pretty bold, now 1 think there is nothing to be afraid of." The remainder of the week was passed away in practising upon the snow-shoes by the males of the party, the women scarcely ever venturing out of doors, as the cold was very severe. Mary antl Ennna were accompanied by Alfred for the first three or four days ; and after that, notwithstanding that the howling of the wolves was heard every night, they took courage when they found that the animals never made their appearance by daylight, and went as before to milk the cows by themselves. On the Saturday, they were in the hopes of seeing old Malachi Bone, b'lt he did not make his appearance, and John, who could now get on very well in his snow-shoes, became very impatient. Alfred and Martin were also very anxious to see the old man, that they might ascer- tain if he had made any discoveries relative to the Indians. Sunday, as usual, was a day of rest from labour ; the services were read by Mr. Campbell, and the evening passed in serious conversation. Mr. Campbell, although usually in good spirits, was certainly not so on that evening : whether it was that the severity of the winter which had set in, and the known long duration of it which they had to encounter, had an effect upon his spirits, he was melancholy as well as serious. He more than once referred to the former residence when in England, which was a very uimsual thing for him to do, and by degrees the conversation was turned in that direction, and, althougli no one said so, they all felt what a change there was in their present position from that which they had been 102 I is .1 pity ;s ; bill \vc year, when ), uliicli Ik- (I slicds (or )uii(i as llic llu; other, not biiilL in ct'ore, wait mcniitiine," ].' »» 'nnnia. nothing to I ])raclising the M'onien ;l was very Alfred for ithstanding niglit, they lever made to milk the ere in the )t make his well in his lartin were light ascer- he Indians. he services [I in serious ood spirits, t was that the known id an effect rioiis. He e when in to do, and direction, lange there y had been i \ TiiK sr;ri'ij:i{s in canada forced to leave. Mrs. ('ampin-ii, who pt-rceived that a gloom was gathering over the whole party, made several remarks tending to reeoneile them to their [iresent lot, and after u time Mr. Campbell observed - *' I'erhaps, my dear eliildren, it may be a divine mercy which has sent yon here to this wilderness ; true it is that we are removed from eivilisation, ami shut up here by a severe winter, deprived of the enjoyments and pleasures which are to be fountl in the society which we were com- pelled to leave ; but let us also bear in mind that we are removed from the many temptations which might have there assailed us." " But still, papa, you would be very glad if circumstances would permit us to return to England; would you not.''" said Percival. " Yes, my child, I should ; and even if I had remained here so long as to have become attached to the place and to the isolation which at first is felt so irksome, I would still return to Englantl and to society, if I had the means. As Chris- tians, we are not to fly from the world and its temptations, but to buckle on our armour, and putting our trust in Mini who will protect us, fight the good fight ; that is, doing our duty in that state of life to which it shall please God to call us." " But if ever we were to return to l^^ngland, there would be no chance of our living as we did before we left it, would there, papa } " "I see none, my dear boy; but we never know what is in store for us. Should any of us ever return, I j)resume it would be to live in a more humble way ; and for my ])art, I should prefer that it were so ; for although I trust I did not greatly misuse that wealth which I so long supposed to be mine, I should not be sorry to have much less, and therefore less responsibility." " Indeed, my dear Campbell, imperfect as we all are, I do not believe that many could have made a better use of it than you did." "I thought so at the time, my dear," replied Mr. Campbell, " but since it has been lost to me, I have often thought that I might have done more good with it. But the fact is, my dear children, there is nothing so dangerous to our eternal 103 (7i 1 f Hi ill riii: SKrri,i:i{s i\ (Anada welfare as ^it-al wealth; il tends to harden the heart by allorchn;; the nuans of eonstanl self-inchil^enee : un(hr siieh circunistanees, man is apl l«» hieonu: sellish, easily salisOcd witli his oun works, and loo prond to se(; Ins errors. Did you observe in the I.ilany, Avhieh I read at this niorninjji's service, how very a|)proj)rIately is inserted the prayer, lor deliverance nnder the pt-rils of wealth ? — "'In all tinu; of our tribulation, in all tinu' of oin* miillli, in the hour of death, and in liie day of jud<;nient, ^ood Jiord, deliver us.' " Kxaniine this, my dear eliildren : in all time of our tribu- lation, — tiiat is, in poverty and distress, and j)erhaps famishing from want (and in few positions arc people so incited to crime), then in all time of our wealth, evidently and distinctly placing wealth as m(»re dangerous to the soul's welfare than the extremest poverty and its accompanying tem|)tations; and observe, only exceeded by the most critical of all dangerous positions, when all has been done and nothing can be undone, — the hour of death, followed by the day of judgment." Mr. Campbell ceased sj)eaking, and there was a pause for a minute or two in tlic conversation, when Mary Percival said, " What, then, my dear uncle, do you consider us the most enviable position in life.''" " I consider a moderate independence as the most envi- able; not occupied in trade, as the spirit of barttM* is too a|)t to make us bend to that which is actually fraud. I should say, a country gentleman living on his own property and among his own tenants, employing the poor around him, holds a position in which lie has the least temj)tation to do wrong, and the most opj)ortunities of doing good." " I agree with you, my dear Campbell," said his wife ; *'.ind yet how few are satisfied even with that lot." " IJecause the craving after wealth is so strong, that every one would have more than he hath, and few men will be con- tent. The desire of aggrandisement overcomes and masters us ; and yet what can be more absurd than to witness the care and anxiety of those to gain riches, who have already more perhaps than is necessary for their wants, — thus 'heap- ing up riches, not knowing who may gather them,' and endangering the soul to obtain that which they must leave behind them when they die. Others amass wealth, not 104 r I> licarl \)\ (111* SlU'll s.ilislic'd YH. Did n)riiin_t''s lycr, lor ir nvtillh, ikI J<(ml, iir tribu- luiishiii^ cited to listiiK'tly ire than )iis; and Ulcerous undone, it. ause for I'ercival • as the st cnvi- too apt shoidd •ty and id him, 1 to do s wife ; t every be con- ntiasters ess the ilready ' heap- 1/ and ; leave not '11 11: srn'i.i;i{S in (anada acliiati'd by Ihc avarice of ho.-iidiii^ it up. but by the app(lil«; lor (■Npciidiii'i' il; who coUccL iiniiistU llial they mav lavisli prol'iisi'ly ; these an; e<|iially looHsh, and how importaiil is that K'sson ^iveii in the Script uris." Mr. ( aiiipbell opened the HibU- which lay before him and read "And He sp.ike a par;d)ie mito them. Tiie ground of a certain rich m.-m ')roii^'hL forth pN'nlifiiliy. "And he said : Wlial shall i do.'' because 1 have 110 looui where to bestow my I'ruils. ''And lie said: This will I ilo; 1 will pull down my barns and build greater, and there will 1 bestow all my fruits and my goods. "And 1 will say to my soul: Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years ; take thine ease, oat, drink, and be merry. '' Hut (iod said unto him : Thou fool, this niglil Ihy soul shall be reipiiretl of thee." After a short silence, Mrs. C'anij)bell observed, " 1 iiave often reflected since 1 have been here upon what might have been our position had we decided upon remaining in ]"'ngland. We might at this moment have been in the greatest distress, even wanting a nu'al ; and I have, there- fore, often thanked (jod that lie left us the means of coming here antl providing for ourselves as we have; done, and as 1 have no doubt shall, with His blessing, conliiiue to do. How much better olf are we at this moment than many thousands of our countrymen who remain in liiiglaiid ! How many are starving ! How many are driven into crime from Mant ! while we have a good roof over our heads, suflicient clothing, and more than suHicient food. We liave, therefore, great reas(m to thank God for the mercies He has vouchsafed to us ; He has heard our j)rayer, '(Jive us this day our daily bread.' " — " Yes," continued Mr. Cam])bell, " ' (Jive us this day our daily bread,' is all that we are taught to ask for ; and it comprehends all ; and yet how heartlessly is this pronounced by many of those who do repeat their daily prayers. So is the blessing fisked at meals, which is by too many con- sidered as a mere matter of form. They forget, that He wiio gives can rJso take away; and in their presumption, suppose their own ability and exertion to have been the sole means of procuring themselves a daily supply of food ; thanking 105 y I THK SKTTLKKS IN CANADA • i i I i '-Hi '■i i 1: It 1 1 I I theuiselves r.itlier th.iii the Clivcr of all ^ood. How many thousands are tliere who have been supplied with more than they require from their cradle down to their grave, without any grateful feeling toward Heaven; considering tlie butcher and baker as their providers, and the debt cancelled as soon as the bills are paid. How different must be the feeling of the poor cottager, who is uncertain whether his labour may procure him and his family a meal for the morrow, who often sulfers privation and hunger, and, what is more painful, witnesses the sutferings of those he loves. How earnest must be his prayer when he cries, ' Give us this day our daily bread.' " This conversation had a very strong effect upon the party, and when they retired to rest, which they did shortly after, they laid their heads upon their ])illows not only with re- signation, but with thankfulness for the mercies which had been vouchsafed to them, and felt that in the wilderness they were under the eye of a watchful and gracious Pro- vidence. CHAPTER XVII \JN the Monday morning Alfred and Martin went to the cow-house, and slaughtered the bullock which they had obtained from the commandant of the fort. When it was skinned it was cut up, and carried to the storehouse, where it was hung up for their winter consumption. As the party were sitting down to dinner, they were greeted by Captain Sinclair and a young lieutenant of the garrison. It hardly need be said that the whole family were delighted to see them. They had come overland on their snow-shoes, and brought some partridges, or grouse, as they are sometimes called, which they had shot on their Avay. Captain Sinclair had obtained leave from the commandant to come over and see how the Campbells were getting on. He had no news of any importance, as they had had no recent communications with Quebec or Montreal ; all was well at the fort, and Colonel Forster had sent his compliments, and begged, if he could be useful, that they would let him know. Captain Sinclair and his friend sat down to dinner, 106 WWi [)w many lore tliaii , without 3 butcher d as soon feeling of )our mav vho often painful, r earnest our daily ;he party, rtly after, with re- hich had I'ilderness ious Pro- it to the they had n it was 3e, where ley were it of the iiily were on their , as they leir way. mandant ting on. lo recent well at ;nts, and let him dinner. A I THE SETTLERS IN CANADA and talked more than they ate, asking questions about everything. " IJy-the-bye, Mr. Campbell, where have you built your pig-sties } " 'Mnside the palisade, next to the fowl house." "That is well," replied Captain Sinclair, "for otherwise you may be troubled by the wolves, who are very partial to pork or mutton." " We fiave been troubled with them," replied Emma ; " at least with their bowlings at night, which make me tremble as I lie awake in bed." "Never mind their howling. Miss Emma; we have plenty of them round the fort, I can assure you ; unless attacked, they will not attack you ; at least, I never knew an instance, although I must confess that I have heard of them." 1 ou will, of course, sleep here to-night .'' " " Yes, we will, if you have a bear or buffalo skin to spare," replied Captain Sinclair. "We will manage it, I have no doubt," said Mr. Campbell. "And if you could manage, Captain Sinclair," said Emma, somewhat archly, "as you say that they are not dangerous animals, to bring us a few skins to-night, it would make the matter easy." " Emma, how can you talk such nonsense ? " cried Mary Percival. " Why should you ask a guest to undertake such a service ? Why have you not proposed it to Alfred or Henry, or even Martin .''" " We will both try, if you please," replied Alfred. " I must put my veto on any such attempts, Alfred," said Mr. Campbell. "We have sufficient danger to meet without running into it voluntarily, and we have no occasion for wolves' skins just now. I shall, however, venture to ask your assistance to-morrow morning. We wish to haul up the fishing-punt before the ice sets in on the lake, and we are not sufficiently strong-handed." During the day Captain Sinclair took Alfred aside to know if the old hunter had obtained any information relative to the Indians. Alfred replied that they expected him every day, but as yet had not received any communication from him. Captain Sinclair stated that they were equally ignorant at the fort as to what had been finally arranged, and that 107 ! li li: I , THE SETTLERS IN CANADA Colonel Forster was in hopes that the hunter would by this time have obtained some inlelli^ence. " I should not be surprised if Malachi Bone were to come here to-morrow morning," replied Alfred. " He has been away a long while, and, I am sure, is as anxious to have John with him as John is impatient to go." "Well, I hope he will ; I shall be glad to have something to tell the Colonel, as I made the request upon that ground. I believe, however, that he was very willing that I should find an excuse for coming here, as he is more anxious about your family than I could have supposed. How well your cousin Mary is looking." " Yes ; and so is Ennna, I think. She has grown half a head since she left England. By-the-byc, you have to con- gratulate me on my obtaining my rank as lieutenant." " I do indeed, my dear fellow," replied Captain Sinclair. " They will be pleased to hear it at the fort. When will you come over?" " As soon as I can manage to trot a little faster on these snow-shoes. If, however, the old hunter does not come to-morrow, I will go to the fort as soon as he brings us any news." The accession to their party made them all very lively, and the evening passed away very agreeably. At night, Captain Sinclair and Mr. Gwynne were ushered into the large bedroom, where all the younger male portion of the family slept, and which, as we before stated, had two spare bed- places. The next morning. Captain Sinclair would have accom- panied the Miss Percivals on their milking expedition, but as his services were required to haul up the fishing-punt, he was obliged to go down, with all the rest of the men, to assist ; Percival and John were the only ones left at home with Mrs. Campbell. John, after a time, having, as usual, rubbed down his rifle, threw it on his shoulder, and, calling the dogs which lay about, sallied forth for a walk, followed by the whole pack except old Sancho, who invariably accompanied the girls to the cow-house. Mary and Emma tripped over the new-beaten snow-path to the cow-house, merry and cheerful, with their pails in their hands, Emma laughing at Captain Sinclair's disappoint- 108 i ould by this 'ere to eome e has been have John e something that ground, uit I should ixious about IV well your rown half a lave to con- ant." ain Sinclair, hen will you :er on these s not come rings us any very lively, At night, ito the large f the family 1 spare bed- lave accom- lition, but as punt, he was ;n, to assist ; le with Mrs. 'ubbed down ig the dogs wed by the accompanied n snow-path leir pails in 5 disappoint- I [\ ! < > i t i , ' :* : ! ■V I, "!% 11,11 ', 1 • I ■ ' ) r . I V 1 1 r r -'rinfod ;ri "'vn;- ili^i i * 1 1 * ii Ji ^1. ( THE SETTLERS IN CANADA i i ment ah not beinc^ jierniitted to accomjinny them. They liad just arrived at the cow-house, Avhcn old Sancho bjnked furiously, and spraniij to tlie side of the ))uildin^ behind them, and in a moment afterward rolled doAvn the snowlieap which he had sprung over, holding on and held fast by a large black wolf. The struggle was not very long, and during the time that it lasted the girls were so panic-struck, that they re- mained like statues within two yards of the animals. Gradu- ally the old dog was overpowered by the repeated snapping bites of the wolf, yet he fought nobly to the last, when he dropped under the feet of the wolf, liis tongue hanging out, and bleeding profusely and lifeless. As soon as his adversary was overpowered, the em-aged animal, with his feet upon the body of the dog, bristling his liair and showing his powerful teeth, was evidently about to attack the young women. Emma threw her arm around Mary's waist, advancing her body so as to save her sister. Mary atlemj^ted the same, and then they remained waiting in liorror for the expecle^, John will, I trust, bo safe enough." "Certainly, I have no objection," said Mrs. Campbell, "and many thanks to you. Captain Sinclair." "What's the dog's name.''" said John. "Oscar," re[)lied Captain Sinclair. " If you let him walk out with your cousins, they need not fear a wolf. He will iKiver be mastered by one, as poor Sancho was." "I'll lend him soviietimes," replied John. "Always; when you don't want him yourself, .John." "Yes, always," ro|)lied John, who was going out of the door. "Where arc you going, dear," said Mrs. Campbell. "Going to skin the wolf," replied John, walking away. " Well, he'll be a regular keen hunter," observed Martin. " I dare say old Hone has taught him to flay an animal. However, I'll go and help him, for it's a real good skin." So saying, Martin followed J(»hn. " Martin ought to have known better than to leave the ofFal Avhere he did," observed Captain Sinclair. " We must not be too hard. Captain Sinclair," said Alfred. " Martin has a contempt for wolves, and that wolf would not have stood his ground had it been a man instead of two young women who were in face of him. W^olves are very cunning, and I know will attack a woman or child when they will fly from a man. Besides, it is very unusual for a wolf to remain till daylight, even when there is offid to tempt him. It was the offal, the animal's extreme hunger, and the attack of the dog — a combination of circumstances — which produced the event. I do not see that Martin can be blamed, as one cannot foresee everything." "Perhaps not," replied Captain Sinclair, "and 'all's well that ends well.' " "Are there any other animals to fear?" inquired Mrs. Campbell. " The bear is now safe for the winter in the hollow of some tree or under some root, where he has made a den. It will not come out till the spring. The catamount or panther is a much nore dangerous animal than the wolf; but it is scarce. I do think, however, that the young ladies should not venture out, unless with some rifles in company, for fear of another 112 «■/ i I 7 . trust, be ill, " and lim walk He will n. t of the iway. \ Martin. I animal, kin." So leave the id Alfred. would not d of two are very hen they a wolf to inpt him. he attack produced d, as one all's well lired Mrs. of some It will Inther is a is scarce. )t venture If another J THE SK'rJ'U'.nS IN CANADA misciiance. We liave plci'ty of lynxes lure; hut I douht if they would attack even a ciiil;" although they fight when assailed, and bile and claw severely." The Misses Percival now made their aj)pearance. I'inima was very merry, but Mary rather grave. Captain Sinclair, having shaken hands with them both, said — " NVhy, Emma, you aj)pear to have recovered sooner than your sister ! " "Yes," replied Emma; "but I was much more frightened than she was, and she supported me, or 1 should have f;illen at the wolf's feet. I yielded to my fears ; Mary held up against hers; so, as her exertions were nmch greater than mine, she has not recovered from them so soon. The fact is, Mary is brave when there is danger, and 1 am only brave when there is none." " I was (pjite as niucii frightened as you, my dear J"'mma," said Mary Percival ; "but we nmst now help our aunt, and get dinner ready on the table." " I cannot say that I have a wolfish apj)etite this morning," replied l*lnnna, laughing; "but Alfred will eat for me and himself too." In a few miiuites dinner was on the table, ajul they all sat down without waiting for Martin anil John, who were still busy skinninvay in !un\ out of the Iiousf, aiul how it is lastciic'd, ill (•.'.sc of sfii(hiii>' a im'ssa_<>c' by iii^lit." "Of sciuhiiv; a messai^e by iii^ht," said Mrs. Campbell with surprise, "why, what possible occasion could there be for that?" Captain Sinclair and Alfred, who perceived that the old hunter had said too nuicli, were (juile at a loss what to say. They did not like t«» i'rii^hten Mrs. (Campbell and the ^irls about the Indians, especially as they had just been so much alarmed with the accident of the niornin*;'. At last Alfred replied, "The fact is, my dear mother, that 'forewarned is bein*:f forearmed,' as the sayinr saw anything of them : not, liowever, that 1 intended that the ladies should be wakened up in the middle of the night," continuec' Captain Sinclair, laughing; " that was not at all necessary." Malachi Bone would have resjionded, but Alfred pinched his arm : the old man understood what was meant, and held his tongue ; at last he said — " Well, well, there's no harm done, it's just as well that the Strawberry should know^ her way about the location, if it's only to know where the dogs are, in case she comes of a message. lit how it is ('ain|>l)ell [ there be it the old lat to say. I the j;irls II Ko much l.'ist AUVed ewanietl is irtiii to re- lians beiii^ •d Malachi. ays to have not a little aiu Sinclair I the look- ans are and It they held nin<«; to any pressed so le Indians, been very lot done so gain. At and 1 re- ns innnedi- )t, however, up in the , laughing ; ed pinelied it, and held ,s well that location, if comes of a Till-: SKiri.l.KS IN CANADA "No, no," replied Mr. Caniphell, "I'm glail that she is come, aiul lu)pe she will come very often. Now, Maluchi, sit down and eat something." "Well, but about the Indians, Captain Sinclair," said Mrs. Campbell ; "that you have not told us .dl, I am certain, and the conviction that such is Ihe casi', will make me and the girls very uneasy ; so pray do treat us as we ought to be treated ; we share the danger, anil wc ought to know what the danger is." " i do not think that there is any dangvilli six or srvcii ol" tlu; y(»iiii«^ warriors, >vli(i luoU up to iiiin, and iu: is iniscliirvoits. IT llie Iiijiiii iialioii udii'l make war, Ix^ will do soinclliiii^' on his own accoiiiil, if lie possibly can. llu's not bailly named, 1 can tell you." "Will ho allack von .> " '* Mc ! n«), no; Iu; knows billcr. lit; knows my rillc well ; ill' has llu mark on his body ; not but thai Iu; would if he dared, but I am Injini niysclf, and know Injun crafL. Then yon sci", llu'se |(i(»ple havi- sLran,i;e ideas. I)urin<^- tin; whole war they never eould even hit me willi their rilles, and they think I am not lo be hurt that's their siiperslition -and my rith'. tluy thiidv, never misses (they're almost ri,i;ht there, lor it. (h>es not ouec; in a hundred times), so w hal with this and that, they tear me as .i supernatural, as we call it. Ihit that's lutl the ease with you all hirt' ; and it' the Snake could criep within tlu'se palisades, he mii;ht bi; misehievous." " Hut the tribes know very well that any attack of this kind would be considered as a (U-elaration of hostilities/' suid Captain Siiu-lair, "and that we should retaliate." " \'es ; but yon sic the Snake don't belong to these tribes about us; his nation is much furlher oil, - too far to ^'o for redress; and the tribes here, although they allow liim to join the 'talk' as an old warrior who had served against the l"'n,i;lish and from respect to h > .i,«;i', do not acknowledge him or his doinj;s. 'I'hey would disavow tlii'iu immediately and with truth, but they cannot prevent his doin• any niis- u can lind here won't lat can be ini so when they think ed Captain I ' ( " V( ■•„ liu'V h(* ; well, pcrliaps, I'll prove nirdicinc ; and I'll ^ivi; them a pill «>r I wo out of my rill*-,' said Malaehi, wilh a ^nim smile. '* Nowsomever, I'll soon learn more about llieni, and will let yon Unow when I do. .Inst keep your palisadt* piles fast jit ni;; lit .and the do;^s inside of Iheni, and .at any time I'll <;ive you warninir. If I am on their Ir.iil the Slr.iw- bi-rry sh.ill come, and that's why I br(»u;;ht her In-re. If yon hear Ihn'C knocks outside the pajisadc .at any hour of the niijhl, why, it will be her, so let her in." " Well," s.iid Mrs. ( ampbell, " I'm very ^lad th.il you have (old me all this; now I knowwh.it we li.ive lo e\p<-el, I shall be more eonr.*i;rr<»us .and much morcr on my <;iiai(l." " I think wv Unvv domr wisely in IcttiiijLi; >'•'" l;ive .'I nod of a|)prob.ation. " I reckon he'll bring" home more skins th.in tli.it this winter," s.'iid he. The pirly then rose just as M.irtin and .lolin made their appe;n\ince. C.Mpt.'iin Siiiel;iir cfuncrsed with the Misses I'er- ci\;il, whih' the old hunter spoke to the .Sfr.iwberry IM.'int in jier own di.alect; the others either went out or were; busy in elc.irinjjf the t.ablc, till Captain Sinclair took his departure with .John and M.irtin, each .irmed with a rifle. " Well, this h.'is been an cxcilinir day," observed Mr. Camp- bell, a little before they retired to bed. "We have much to th.ink (lod for, .and «;re,at reason \o pr.ay for His continued protection and assist;ince. (iod bless you .'ill, my children ; ^ood night." 117 fl.. THE SETTLERS IN CANADA i' V 'U CHAPTER XTX X HE next morninnr, a little after daybreak, Martin and John made their a})pearanee, leading the magnificent dog which Captain Sinclair had given to .John. lake most large dogs, Oscar appeared to l)c very good-tempered, and treated the snarling and angry looks of the other dogs with perfect contempt. " It is, indeed, a noble animal," said Mr. Campbell, patting its head. "It's a fine creature," observed Malachi, "a wolf would stand no chance against him, and even a bear would have more on its hands than it coidd well manage, I expect ; but, come here, boy," said the old hunter to John, Ic.iding the dog outside of the door. " You'd better leave the dog, John," said Malachi, " the crittm' will be of use here, but of no good to us." .John made no reply, and the hunter continued — " I say it will b(^ of use hero, for the girls might m(!ct with another wolf, or the house might be attacked ; but good Inniters don't want dogs. Is it to watch for us, and give us notice of danger .f' Why, that's our duty, and we must trust to ourselves, and not to an animal. Is it to hunt for us ? Why, no dog can take a deer so well as we can with our rifles ; a dog may discover ns when we wish to be hidden ; a dog's tr;ick will mark us out wlien we would wish our track to be doubted. The am'mal will be of no utility ever to us, Johji, and may do us harm, 'specially now the snow's on the ground. In the sunnncr-time, you can take him and teach him how to behave as a hunter's dog should behave; but we had better leave him now, and start s\t once." John nodded his head in assent, and then went indoors. " (iood-bye," said ,h>hn, going up to his ntother and cousins ; " I shall not take the dog." " Won't take the dog ! well, that's very kind of you, John," said Mary, "for we were longing to have him to protect us." •lohn s!!;.uldcre(l his rifle, made a sign to Strawbeny Plant, who rose, and looking kiudly ;«t Mrs. ('ampbell and the girls, ' 118 [artin and ficerit (loijf Tiost larjnre 1(1 treated til perfect W, j)attiug 'olf would oiild have pcct ; but, ading the ichi, " the Tfiect M'ith hut ^ood d i'ive us ruist trust t for us ? Avith our hidden ; our track ver to us, 's on the ind teach ; but we idviors. 1 cousins ; u, .Fohn," )tect us." rry Plant, the girls, THE SF/ITLKHS IN CAXADA without speaking, followed John out of the hut. Malachi certainly was not very ])olitc, for he walked off, in company with John and the scjiiaw, without taking the trouble to say " Good-bye." It must, however, be observed that he was in conversation with Martin, who* accompanied them on the way. The winter had now become very severe, liie thermometer was twenty degrees below the freezing poitit, and the cold was so intense, that every precaution was taken against it. More than once Percival, whose business it w.ms to bring in the firewood, was frost-bitten, but as Mrs. Campbell was very watchful, the remedy of cold snow was always successfully apj)lied. 'I'he howling of the wolves continued every night, but they were now used to it, and the only efl'ect was, Avhen one came more than usually close to the house, to make Oscar raise his head, growl, listen awhile, and then lie down to sleep again. Oscar became very fond of the girls, and was their invariable comj)anion whenever they left the house. Alfred, Martin, and Henry went out almost daily on hunting excursions ; indeed, as there were no croj)s in the barn, they had little else to do. Mr. Campbell remained at home with his wife and nieces; occasionally, but not very often, l^ercival accompanied tlu; hunters; of Malachi and John they saw but little ; John returned about every ten days, but although he adhered to his promise, his anxiety to go back to Malachi was so very aj^parent, and he was so restless, that Mi's. Campbell rather wished him to be away, than remain at home so much against his will. Thus passed away the time till the year closed in ; confined as they were by the severity of the weather, and having little or nothing to do, the winter appeared longer and more tedious than it would have done had they been settled longer, and had the crops to occupy their attention ; for it is in the winter that the Canadian farmer gets through all his thrashing and other work comiected with the farm, ])repara- tory for the coming spring. Tliis being •^!;e first winter, they had, of course, no cro|)s gathered in, an(> »\ore, therefore, in want of employment. Mrs. Campbell and her nieces worked and read, and criployed themselves in every way that they could, but constantly shut up within docu's, they could not help feeling the monotony and ciiiini of the situation. The fir H' fill j I I I ; 'ii I! 11 M N f: Tm: sp:ttlers in Canada young men found occupation and amusement in the chase ; tiiey brought a variety of animals and skins, and the evenings were generally devoted to a narration of wliat occurred in the day during their hunting excursions, but even these histories of the chase were at last heard with indifference. It was the same theme, only with variations, over and over again, and there was no longer much excitement in listening. "I wonder when John will come back again," observed Emma to her sister, as they were sitting at work. " Why, he only left two days ago, so we must not expect him for some time." "I know that; I wonder if Oscar would kill a wolf; I should like to take him out and try." " I thought you had had enough of wolves already, Emma," replied Mary. " Yes, well ; that old Malachi will never bring us any more news about the Indians," continued Emma, yawning. "Why, I do not think that any news about them is likely to be pleasant news, Emma, and, therefore, why should you wish it .f* " " Why, my dear Mary, because I want some news ; I want something to excite nie, I feel so dull. It's nothing but stitch, stitch, all day, and I am tired of always doing the same thing. What a horrid thing a Canadian winter is, and not one-half over yet." "It is very dull and monotonous, my dear Emma, I admit; and if we had more variety of employment, we should find it more agreeable, but Ave ought to feel grateful that we have a good liouse over otn* heads, and more security tlian we anticipated." "Almost too much security, Mary; T begin to feel that I could welcome an Indian even in his war-paint, just l)y wa}' of a little change." "I think you would soon repent of yom* wish, if it weie gratified." " Very likely, but I cannot help wishing it now. When will they come home ? What o'clock is it ? I wonder what they'll bring : the old story, I suppose, a buck ; I'm sick of vensiou." " Indeed, Emma, you are wrong to feel such discontent and weariness." 120 •• r .. I ! I THE SETTLERS IN CANADA the chase ; e evenings rred in the e histories It was the again, and ' observed not expect a wolf; I [y, Emma/' s any more ^m is likely should you tvs ; I Avant )thing but g the same ^, and not I admit ; lould find ; Ave have til an we eel that I st by wa}' if it wckc When ider what n sick of liscontcnt {{ ■4 Perhaps I am, but I have not walked a hurulrcd yards for nearly one hundred days, and that Avill give one the blues, as they call them, and 1 do nothing but yawn, yawn, yawn, for want of air and exercise. Uncle won't let us move out on account of that horrid wolf. I Avonder how Oiptain Sinclair is getting on at the fort, and whether he is as dull as we are." To do Emma justice, it Avas seldom that she indulged her- self in such lamentations, but the tedium Avas more than lier higli flow of spirits could Avell bear. Mrs. Campbell made a point of arranging the household, which gave her occupation, and Mary from natural disposition did not feel the confuie- ment as much as Emma did ; Avhenever, therefore, she did show sy'^iptoms of restlessness, or Avas tempted to utfc r a complaint, they reasoned Avith uiid soothed, but never re- proached her. The day after this conversation, Emma, to amuse herself, took a rifle and went out Avith Percival. She fired several shots at a mark, and by degrees acquired some dexerily ; gradually she became fond of the exercise, and not a day passed that she and Percival did not practice for an hour or two, until at last Ennna could fire Avith great jnvcision. Practice and a knoAvledge of the perfect use of your weapon gives confident e, and this Emma did at last aecjuire. She challenged Alfred and Ilem'y to fire at the bull's eye Avith her, and Avhether by their gallantry or lier superior dexterity, she A^as declared victor. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell smiled Avhen Emma came in and narrated her success, and felt glad that she had found something Avhich afforded her amusement. It happened that one evening the hunters Avere very late ; it Avas a clear inooidight night, but at eight o'clock they had I'.ot made their a[)j)earance ; Percival had op(Mied the door to go out for some firewood Avhich had been )>ilod Avithin the palisades, and as it Avas later than the usual hour for locking the palisade gates, Mr. Campbell had directed him so to (h>. Emma, attracted by the beauty of the night, Avas .-it the door of the house, Avhen the howl of a wolf Avas heard close to them ; the dogs accustomed to it merely sjmnigon their f<^et, but did not leave the kitchen fire ; l-'nnna Avent out, and looked through the palisades to see if slw could perceive the ]21 \> ■' THE SETTLERS IN CANADA animal, and little Trim, the terrier, followed her. Now Trim was so small tiiat he eonld creep between the palisades, and as soon as he was close to them, perceiving the wolf, the couraj^cous little animal scpieezed throuirh them and flew toward it, barking as loud as he could. I'^mma immediately ran in, took down her rifle and went out «igain, as she knew that poor Trim wordd soon be devoured. The supposition was correct : th.e wolf, instead of retreating, closed with the little dog and seized it. Emma, who could now plainly per- ceive the animal, which was about forty yards from her, took aim and fired, just as poor Trim gave a loud yelp. Her aim was good, and the wolf and dog lay side by side. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, and Mary, hearing the report of the rifle, ran out, and i'oimd Percival and Ennna at the palisades behind the house. "I have killed him, aunt," said Emma, "but I fear he has killed poor little Trim ; do let us go out and see." "No, no, my dear iMinna, thai nmst not be; your cousins will be hoine soon, and then w shall know how the case stands ; but the risk is too great. ' " I lerc they come," said Percival, "as fist as they can run." The hmiters were soon at the palisade bell, " he was born before the colonies obtained their independence. " " Yes, ma'am, long before ; there's no saying how old he is. When I was quite a child, I recollect he was then reckoned an old man ; indeed, the name the Indians gave to him proves it. He then was called the *^ Grey Hadger.' " 123 ,i I I*)"'' ' 1:1 IM , ;. n ^1, r I i THE SETTr.KHS IN CANADA "Rut is he very old, do you ivjvlly Ihiiik, M.irtin?" " I think he has seen more than sixty snows, nia'nni ; but not many more ; the fact is, liis liair was .i;rey l)efore he was twenty years old ; he told me so himself, and that's one reason why the Indians are so fearful of him. They have it from their fathers, that tlie Grey Badger was a great hunter, as Malachi was more tiian forty years a,i>o ; so they imagine as his hair was grey then, he must luive been a very old man at that time back, and so to them he a])])ears to live for ever, and they consider him as charmed, and to use their phrase, 'great mcdic'nic' I've heard some Indians (U^clare that Malachi had seen one hundred and fifty winters, and tluy really be- lieve it. I never contradicted them, as you may iniagine." ^' Does he live comfortably ?" "Yes, ma'am, he does; his squaw knows what he wants, and do(;s what she is bid. She is very found of the old man, and looks u])on him, as he really is to her, as a father. His lodge is always full of meat, and he has plenty of skins. He don't drink spirits, and if he has tobacco for smoking and ])ow(ler and ball, what else can he want?" " IIaj)py are they whose wants are so few," observed Mr. Campbell. "A man in whatever ]H)sition in life, if he is con- tent, is certain to b(^ happy. How true are the words of the j)oet — ' Man waals I ml. little lioro bolnw, Nor w.iiit.s Miat liitl'.; lonf^; ! ' Malachi Rone is a happier man than hundreds in England who live in luxury, l.et us ]>roHt, my dear children, by liis example, and learn to l>e content with what Heaven has bestowed upon us. Hut it is tinie to retire. The Avind has risen, aiul we shall have a blustering night. Henry, fetch me th(} book." ,1 i \ ,^^ • I- CHAPTT^U XX J\ LFRED and Martin brought in the wolf which Emma had killed, but it was frozen so hard that they could not skin it. Poor little Trim was also carried in, but the ground was too hard frozen for them to biny the body, so they put it into 124 1: Till': SETTLERS IN (ANAI)A the snow unlil the spriiii^, when a thaw woiihl take plaee. As for the woll", they said iiothinj^' about it, l)iit they remained up when the n'st of the family retired, and after the wolf had been some time before the fire, Ihey were able to take oil" the akin. On the following morninjj^, when the hunters went out, they were partieularly desired to shoot a wild tm'key if they eould, as the next day was Christmas-day. "Let us take Osear with us," said Alfred; "he is very swift, and may run them down; we never ean get up with them in oin* snow-shoes." "I wonder whether they will get a turkey," said Emma after the hunting party had left. " 1 think it will be diliieult," tiid Mrs. Campbell ; " but they will try all they ean." " 1 h(H)e they will ; for Christmas-day without a turkey will be very un-l'^nglish." "We are not in iMiglanil, my dear I'auma," said Mr. Camj)- bell ; "ajul wild turkeys are lu^t to be orderetl from the poulterer's." " 1 know that we are not in E,ngland, my dear unele, and I feel it too. How was the tlay before every Christmas-day spent at Wexton Hall ! What piles of warm blankets, what a (piantity of dullil eloaks, flannels, and worsted stockings were we all so busy and so happy in preparing and sorting to give away on the following morning, that all within miles of us should be wannly clothed on that day. And, then, the housekee})er's room with all the joints of meat antl Hour, and plums and suet, in pro})ortion to the number of each family, all laid out and ticketed ready for distribution. And then the party invited to the servants' hall, and the great dinner, and the new clothing for the schoolgirls, and the church so gay, with their new dresses in tlic aisles, and the holly and the mistletoe. I know we are not iu England, my dear uncle, and that you have lo:,t one of your greatest pleasures — that of doing good, and making all ha|)py around you." "Well, my dear Emma, if I have lost the pleasure of doing- good, it is the will of Heaven that it should be co, and we ought to be thankful that, if not dispensing charity, at all events, we are not the objects of charity to others ; that we are independent, and earning an honest livelihood. PeojjJe 125 •I « 1 1 (i ' • t M! I! i 5 ; i ' • \ \ M TIIJ'. Sl'/lTLJatS IN CANADA may be very happy, and feel the iiiosl devout gratitude on the anniversary of so j^reat a mercy, without having a turkey for diinier." " 1 was not in earnest about the turkey, my dear uncle. It was the association of ideas connected by long habit, which made me think of our Christmas times at Wexton H.'dl ; but, indeed, my dear uncle, if there was regret, it was not for myself so much as for you/' replied Ennna, with tears in her eyes. " I'erhaps 1 spoke rather too severely, my dearest Emma," said Mr. Camj)bell ; "but 1 did not like to hear such a solemn day sj)oken of as if it were connnemorated merely by the eating of certain ft)od." *']t was foolish of me," replied ]Muma, "and it was said tlu)ughtlessly." ]"!imma went up lo Mr. Campbell and kissed him, and Mr. C'ampbell said, " Well, I ho])e there will be a turkey, since you wish for one." The hunters did not return till late, and when they appeared in sight, I'ercival, who had descried them, came in and said ihat they were very well loaded, and were bringing in their game slung upon a pole. Mary anil I'^mma went out of the door to meet their cousins. 'I'hat there was a heavy load carried on a pole between Martin and Alfred was certain, but they could not tlistinguish what it consisted of. As the party arrived at the palisade gates, however, they discovered that it was not game, l)ut a human being, who was carried on a sort of litter made of boughs. " What is it, Alfred ? " said Mary. *' Wait till I recover u)y breath," said Alfred, as he reached the door, "or aok Flenry, for I'm (piite knocked up." Henry then went with his cousins into the house, and explained to them that as they were in pursuit of the wild turkeys, Oscar had stopped suddenly aiid coumienced baying ; that they went up to the dog, and, ni a bush^ they found a j)oor Indian woman nearly frozen to death, and with a dislo- cation of the ankle so severe, that her leg was terribly swelled, and she could not move. Martin had spoken to her in the Indian tongue, and she was so exhausted with cold and hunger that she could just tell him that she belonged to a small 126 i ii i! llli: SKITIJ'.KS l\ CANADA •atitude on ig a turkey ilcjir uncle, long habit, at Wexton gret, it was , witii tears ;st Emma/' ell a solenui rely by the it was said im, and Mr. urkey, since when they fill, came in -re bringing meet their on a |)ole |;y could not rived at the IS not game, litter made he reached P- house, antl lot" the wild eed baying ; [ley found a Ivith a dislo- Ibly swelled, her in the I and hunger to a small party of iiidiaiis nho liad been some days out hunting, and a long way from where they had built lluir winter lodges; that she had fallen with the weight which she had carried, and that her leg Avas so bad, she could not go on with them ; thai they had taken her burden, and left her to foMow them w hen she could. "Yes," continued Alfred ; "left the poor creature without food, to jierish in the snow. One day mori', and it would have been all over with her. it is wonderfid how she can have lived through the two last nights as she has. Ihit Marlin says the Indians always do leave a woman to j)erish in this way or recover as she can, if she happens to meet with an accident." ' "At all events, kt us bring her in at once," said Mr. Camp- bell. "1 will first see if my surgical assistance can be of use, and after that we will do what we can for her. How far from this did you find her.''" "About eight miles," replied Henry; "and Alfred has carried her almost the whole way ; Martin and 1 have relieveil each oilier, except once, when I took Alfred's place." "And so you ])erceive, I'anma, instead of a wild turkey 1 have brought an Indian s(piaw," said Alfred. "1 love you better for your kindness, Alfred," replied iMiinia, " than if you had brought me a waggon-load oi' turkeys." In the meantime Martin and Henry bnuight in the poor Indian, and laid her down on the floor at some distance from the fire, for though she was nearly dead with the cold, too sudden a:i exposure to heat would have been almost ecjually fatal. Mr. Campbell examined her ankle, and with a little assistance reduced the dislocation. He then bound up her leg and bathed it with warm vinegar, as a first application. Mrs. Camj)bell and 'the two girls chafed the poor creature's limbs till the ci 'culation was ^ 'ittle restored, and then they gave her sometl ing warm to drink. It was proposed by Mrs. Campbell that they should make up a bed for her on :lie floor of the kitchen. This was done in a corner near the fireplace, and in about an hour their patient fell into a sound sleep. " It is lucky for her that she did not fall into that sleep before we found her," said Martin; "she would never have awoke again." 127 ,'1 r I ! I'lir, SlVrilJItS I\ I AN ADA "Most ft'rt.iiiily not," riplird Mr. Ciinpbell. "Have you any iilca what tribe slic is of, Martin ? " " \rs, sir; she is one of llu; ("lii|)|K'\vays ; there arc many divisions of them, but 1 will (ind out when she awakes a^ain to w hich she beh)n_i.';s ; she was too nuieh exiiausted when we found her to say nnicli." " It appears \ery iidiuman leavin/^ her to perish in tliat way," observed Mrs. (Campbell. *' Well, ma'am, so it does ; but necessity has no l.aw. The Indians could not, if they would, iiave c.irried her, perhaps one hinuhed miles. It would have probably been the occa- sion of more deaths, for the cold is too _i;reat Jiow for sleepini^ out at nii!,hls for any time, although they do contrive, with the hel|) of a larj^e firt;, to stay out sonu:limes." *' Self-pri'servation is the llist law of nature, certaiidy," observed Mr. Campbell ; " but, if I recollect rii!,ht, the savai;e d(»es not value the life of a woman V(;ry hijuhly." *' 'I'hat's a fact, sir," replied Martin; "not nmeh more, I reek(»n, than you would a beast of burden." •'It is always the ease amonu; ;.ava_<;e nations," observed Mr. Campbell ; " the fn-st mark of civilisation is tlie lri;atment of the other sex, and in jiroportion as civilisation increases, so are the women protected and well used. Ihit your supper is ready, my children, and I think after your fatigue and fasting you nmst reipiire it." " I am almost loo tired to eat," observed Alfred. " I sliall jnlinitely more enjoy a good sleep under my bearskin. At the same time I'll try w hat 1 can do," continued he, laughing, and taking his seat at table. Notwithstanthng Alfred's observation, he contrived to make a very hearty supper, and Kmma laughed at his aj)petite aftt.T his professing that he had so little inclination to eat. " I said I was too tired to eat, Kmnia, and so I felt at the time; but as 1 became more refreshed my appetite returned," replied Alfred, laughing, "and notwithstanding your jeering me, 1 mean to eat some more." " Mow long has .John been away ?" said Mr. Campbell. " Now nearly a fortniglit," observed Mrs. Campbell ; " he promised to come here Christmas-day. I suppose we shall see him to-morrow morning." ' Yes, ma'am ; and old Bone will come with him, I dare 128 ' Have y«)U ! arc many ,ak(*s .'ij;aiii (1 when we ish ill tl»!it , law. The cr, perliaps II tlic occa- (br sleeping ve, witli the certainly," , the savage ueh more, I ^," observed \ii treatment |inereases, so ur supper is and fasting |l. « I shall 'arskiii. At le, lauohinj:?, Ivcd to make |)petite afb^r -at. |l felt at the returned," ^our jeering limpbell. ipbell ; " he Ue we shall Ihim, I dare THK SKTI'L .S IN CANADA say. He said as nuicii to nu* when he was going away the last time, lie observed that the boy could not bring the venison, and perhaps fir would if he had any, for he knows that people like plenty of meat on ( hristmas day." " 1 wonder whether old Malachi is any way religious," observed Mary. "Do you think he is, M/irtin.^" " Ves, ma'am ; I thiidc he feels it, but does not show it. I know from myself what are, probably, his feelings on the subject. When I have been away for weeks and sometimes for months, without seeing or speaking to any one, nil alone in the woods, I feel more religious than I do when at (Quebec on my return, although I do go to church. Now old Malaehi lias, I think, a solemn reverence for the Divine Being, and strict notions of duty, so far as he understands it, — but as he never goes to any town or mixes with any conipany, so the rites of religion, as I may call them, and the observances of the holy feast, are lost to him, except as a sort of dream of former days, before he took to Ills hunter's life. Indeed, he seldom knows what day or even what month it is. He knows the seasons as they come and go, and that's all. One day is the same as another, and he cannot tell which is Sunday, for he is not able to keep a reckoning. Now, ma'am, when you desired Master John to be at home on the I'riday fortnight because it was Christnuis-day, I perceived old Malachi in deep thought : lie was recalling to mind what Christm.as-day was ; if you had not mentioned it, the day would have passed away like any other ; but you reminded him, and then it was that he said he would come if he co»dd. I'm sure that now he knows it is Christmas-day, he intends to keep it as such." "There is much truth in what Martin says," observed Mr. Campbell ; "we recpiire the seventh day in the week and other stated seasons of devotion to be regidarly set apart, in order to keep us in mind of oin* duties and preserve the life of religion. In the wools, remote from communion with other Christians, these things are easily forgotten, antl when once we have lost our calculation, it is not to be recovered. But come, Alfred and Henry and Martin nmst be very tired, and we had better all go to bed. I will sit up a little while to give some drink to my patient, if she wishes it. Good- night, my children." 12f) I »l !,i If , ^ i\ 1 ( M 1 ^ it ! -I TIIK SIVni.Kns l\ CANADA CHAPTRR XXI i^HUISTMAS-DAY was iiKk-rd a clianjjjc, as Emma liad ohsorvctl, from tlu'ir fonm-r ('liristmas ; but allhoii^h the frost was more than usually severe, and the snow filled the air with its wliite flakes, and the north-east wind howled through the leafless trees as they rasped their )on^ arms against eaeh other, and the lake was one sheet of thiek iee with a eoveriuff of snow whieh the wind had in different plaees blown up into iiillocks, still they had a ^ood roof over their heads, and a warm, bla/ini? fire on tlu; hearth : and they had no domestic miseries, the worst miseries of all to contend a«ifainst, for they were a united family, lovinir and beloved ; showinjif nmtual acts of kindness and nmtual acts of forbear- ance ; provin<>' how nmch better was ''a dish of herbs wliere love is, than the stalled ox with hatred therewith." Moreover they were all piously disposed ; they were sensible that they owed a Inr^e debt of gratitude to Fleavcn for all its daily mercies in providing them with food and raiment, for ward in - jiarty had in the corner •rs. r; the Straw- ow voice, and lii stood over to the Angry ; party to tlic here ; I could nent, that all same place in vy ? " inquired hardly know jue from me," LS that ?" n years back, lich took place ribes here and vere surprised uld learn, was Hurons had to the place e dead bodies, ^ere to deface )ush two little it was some and I pointed ger, I thought I TIIK Sl'VITLEUS IN CANADA that [)ei'l)aps 1 might be mistaken, sd i walked up to the busii, and there I discovered 'Jiat it was an Indian eliild, which Jiad ^'seaped tlie niassacre by hiding itself in the bush. I pulled it out; it was a girl about two years old, who could s[)eak but a few words. I took her home to my lodge, and have had her with me ever since, so I don't exaetly kiu>w what tribe she belongs to, as they all s])eak the same tongue. I called her the ^Strawberry,' because I found her under a bush close to the ground, ami anumg strawberry plants which were growing there." "And then you married her," said Percival. "Marri'd her! no, boy, I never married her; what has an old man of near seventy to do with marrying.'' They call her my squaw, because they sup|)ose she is my wife, and she does the duty of a wife to me ; but if they were to call her my daughter, they would be nearer the mark, for I have been a father to her." "Well, Malachi, to tell you the truth, I did think that she was too young to be your wife," said Emma. " Well, miss, you were not far wrong," replied the old man. " I do wish I could find out her tribe, but I never have been able, and indeed, from what I can learn, the party who were stnprised came a long w^iy from this, al though speaking the same language ; and I don't think there is any chance now, for even if I were to try to discover it, there have been so many surprises and so much slaughter within these last twenty years, that it's scarcely possible the search would be attended with success." "But why do you wish to find out her tribe t" said Mary. "Because I'm an old man, miss, and must soon expect to be gathered to my fathers, and then this poor little girl will be quite alone, unless I can marry her to some one before I die : and if I do marry her, why then she will leave inc alone ; but that can't be helped, I'm an old man, and what does it matter?" " It matters a great deal, Malachi," said Mr. Campbell ; "I wish you Avould live with us; you would then be taken care of if you required it, and not die alone in the wil- derness." "And the Strawberry shall never want friends or a home, while we can offer her one, Malachi," said Mrs. Campbell ; 133 THE SKT'l'LKHS IN CANADA ^1 { r J , f s . 1 1 ' ; ■ y t. ■ ''1 ^i f i I " let what will liappc-ii to you, slic will be welcome to live here aiul die here^ it" she will remain. " Malaehi made no reply ; he' was in dei'p thought, resting his ehin upon his hands^ which held his ritie before liim. Mrs. Campbell and the _<;irls were obliged to leave to pre])are the dinner. .lohn hail sat down with the Strawberry and the Indian woman, and was listeninj)bell to retreat to the sitting-room, that the culinary operations mii^ht not be interfered with. Malaehi IJone still continued sittinj^ where he was, in deep thought. TiarLin, who remained, said to the Miss Percivals in a low voice — "Well, 1 really did think Vhat the old man had married the ,i;irl, and I thought it was a pity," contimied he, lookiiijir toward the Strawberry, "for she is very young and very hand- jjome for a scpiaw." " I think," rei)lied Mary Pereival, "she woidd be considered handsonic everywhere, Martin, s(piaw or not; her features are very pretty, and then she has a melancholy smile, which is perfectly beautiful ; but now, Martin, ])luck these turkeys, or we shall not have them ready m time." As soon as the dinner was at the fire, and could be left to the care of Martin, Mrs. Cam})bell and the Misses Pereival went into the sitting-room. Mr. Campbell then read the morning service of tie day, Henry officiating as clerk in the res[)onres. Old Mal,i.;hi had joined the party, and was pro- foundly attentive. A-s soon as the service was over, he said — "All this puts me in mind of days long past, days which appear to me as a dream, when I was a lad and had a father and a mother, and brothers and sisters around me ; but many summers and many winters have passed over my head since then." " You were born iii Maine, Malaehi, were you not ? " " Yes, ma'am, half way up the White Mountains. He was a stern old man, my father ; but he was a righteous man. I remember how holy Sunday was kept in our family ; how my mother cleaned us all, and ])ut on our best clothes, and how we went to the chapel or church, I forget which they called it ; but no matter, we went to pray." 134 ; i I Li I i 11 line to live ;hl, resting- (ctore liiin. to prepare vberry ami for lie now lir, and the n near the 1 to retreat ii>;ht not be ;tirii^ wliere said to the ad niarrieil lie, looking very liand- oo'isidered er features mile, whieh se turkeys, be lel't to es Percival 1 read the lerk in the d was pro- ', he said — [lays which ,d a father but many Ihead since k?" He was lis man. I how my and how Ihey called Tur: sFxrr.KHS in caxada " Was your father of the Established Chuivh, Malachi ? " " 1 can't tell, ina'aiii ; indeed, 1 hardly know what it means ; but he was a good Christian and a good man, that I do know." " You are right, Malachi ; when the pt>pulalion is crowded, you find people divided into sectf., and, what is still worse, ilcspising, if not hating each other, because the outward forms of worship are a little different. Merc, in our isolated position, we feel how trifling are many of the distinctions which ilivide religious communities, and that we could gladly give the right hand of fellowship to any denominatio!i of Christians who hold the main truths of the C!OSj)el. Are not all such agreed in things essential, animated with the same hopes, acknow- ledging the same rule of faith, and all comprehended in the same divine mercy Avliich was shown us on this day ? What do all sincere Christians believe but that Clod is holy, great, good, and merciful, that His Soii died for u:; all, and that through His merits and intercession if we conform to His precepts — whether members of the Church of liiigland, or any other communion — we shall be saved and obtain the blessed- ness of heaven } We may prefer, and reasonably prefer, our own mode of worship, believing it to be most edifying, but we have no right to cpiarrel with those who C(Hiscientiously differ from us about outward forms and ceremonies which do not involve the spirit of Christianity." After a pause, Mary Percival said, "Malachi, tell us more about your father and your family." •* I have little to tell, miss ; only that I now think that those were pleasant days which then 1 thought irksome. My father had a large farm and would have had us all remain with him. In the winter we felled timber, and I took quite a passion for a hunter's life ; but my father would not allow me to go from home, so I stayed till he died, and then I went away on my rambles. I left when I was not twenty years old, and 1 have never seen my family since, I have been a h. inter and a trapper, a guide and a soldier, and an interpreter : but for the last twenty- five years I have been away from towns and cities, and have lived altogether in the woods. The more man lives by himself the more he likes it, and yet now and then circumstances bring up the day<5 of his youth, and make him hesitate whether it be best or not to live alone." 135 i n-;f ^ ; '' the winter, now made their appearance, and chirped and twittered romul the house ; the pleasant ijreen of the prairie was once more j)resentcd to their view, and natin'c be;U;an to sjuile ai^ain. Other ten days [)asse{l, and the trees hati thrown out their leaves, and after one or two storms, the weather became warm and the sky serene. Great was the tleli^ht of the whole party at this change ; and now the cows were put out to their pasture, and Ennna and Mary went milking as before, no longer afraid of meeting with the wolves. The boat was launched, and Percival and John went out to procm'e fish. Alfred, Henry, and Martin were very busy picking up the cleared ground, to sow the (irst crop. Mr. Campbell workcul aU day in the garden ; the poultry were noisy and bustling, and soon furnished an abundiuit supply of eggs ; and as now the hunting season was over for a time, Malachi and the Strawberry were continually coming to visit them. " Oh ! how delightful this is," exclaimed Emma, as she stopped at the bridge and looked on the Avide blue lake ; " is it not, Mary, after having been cooped up for so many weary months ? " "It is, indeed, Ennna; I do not wonder at your flow of spirits ; I feel quite another person myself. Well, if the winter is long and dreary, at all events, it doubly enhances the value of the spring." " I think it very odd that Captain Sinclair has not come to see us ; don't you, Mary ? " 138 THE SF/iTLKllS IN CANADA IS {|iiite I'e- icr wish to o objection visions, she jiniiaiy. still con- he weather * April that il, and then uite an ini- e laud was chani^e the for so many had been made their house ; the resented to ler ten days nd after one sky serene, lis chaui^e ; and Ennna of meeting ercival and kmd Martin to sow the le garden ; rnished an season was :ontinually ina, as she lake ; " is lany weary [ur flow of ill, if the enhances [t come to *' 1 certainly did «. xprct him !». fi-ve this," replied Mary ; " I presume, houcvtr, his duly will no^ permit him to come. " ■' Siu'cly he could t>eL leave, now that the weather is line ; lilt re was some leason for his not coming" during the winter. 1 hope he is not ill." " 1 hope so too, most sincerely, Ennna," replied Mary ; " hjit come, sister, we nnist not loiter; hear how lie calves are l)lcatini»' for us to let them have their breakfast; we shall have more of them very soon ; yes, and plenty of milk, and then we shall have plenty of churning ; but 1 like work when the weather is fine." After l)r('akfast, I'iUima expressed her sm'prise to Alfred at Captain Sinclair's not having maile his appearance, and her fear that he was not well. Alfred, at her recpiest, promised to walk to the fort in the afternoon, and ascertain how matters were. John, who had not forgotten the advice of Malachi, brought in a basket of fine trout from the stream almost every day, and the supply of fish and eggs proved very acceptable, for the beef had all been consumed, and the family Avould other- wise have been reduced to salt-pork. Alfred, as he had promised Emma, set off for the fort, accompanied by Martin. He returned the next morning, full of news. Captain Sinclair was, as Ennna had imagined, unable to come, having had a severe fall, by which he had injiu'ed his knee, and Avas laid up for a time ; he was. 'm)w- ever, in very good spirits, and the medicai officer had pronn'sed that he should be well again in a fortnight ; he sent his kind regards to all the family. The commandant also sent his compliments to Mr. Campbell, and desired to acquaint him that, in a week or ten days, it was his intention to send a boat to Montreal, and i'i Mr. Campbell had any purchases to make, or wished to send any one by the opportunity, he might do so, and the boat would bring back the articles he required. They had no further communication Avith (Quebec, but exj)ected a runner to come every day with the letters from England and newspapers ; and further, that he hoped soon to be able to pay his respects in j)erson. Such was the information brought by Alfred ; Emma made many inquiries relative to Captain Sinclair as Mary stood by, and Alfred laughed at her extreme inquisitiveness. The pro- 139 ' f i)U n I I h' :i '- I !l il I ' 'I I THE SKTILKHS IN CANADA position of the coininaiui.'uit relative lo llic; trii) to Montrt-.i! was tlit'ii discussed. Old Malaelii had several |)aeka<;es of furs to dispose of. Martin had live, Alfred three, and Henry two; for, althoui^'h wi: made no mention of it, on fhi'ir hiniL- iny; (excursions, whoevt>' killed the animal was entitled to the skin. The p;. ka<^es of Malachi were, however, of some value, as he had many heaver and other skins, while those of Martin and tl e ot'iers consisted ehie'ly of dec.'"skins. The (jueslion was, whom to send down with then). Malachi was not inclined to i;-o, Martin coulil not Avell be sj)ared, anil, moreover, would very })rol)al)Iy vhi^li Mr. Campbell did not renew the subject. Malachi soon acted upon his remark, that perhaps he might raise his lodge a little nearer, for, a few days afterward, he made his appearance with the Strawberry and John, all three loaded with his household utensds, and in a very ; hort time he had erected another wigwam within sight of the liouse at the western end 140 I ; k*« '■^' I Moiitrt'.il ii'kji<;cs of uul I Itiiry iK'ir liiiiiL- ■iililUd to •r, of sonn' c those of vins. TIr' lalachi was »arctl, ami, irape if lu- not know Campbell, veral other . But the » observed, the otiiers ; and tliat ly so, they tisfied with lertake the jf articles; as soon as Martin did he expedi- Ithe Straw- artin was w words of rybody. flalachi no ler hiin his accejit it. he might t present, hi^h Mr. ,>on acted lije a little Ippe.arance with his Id erected Istern end . ; THR SETTLERS IX CANADA of Mr. Campbell's prairie. This gave great satisfaction to Mrs. Campbell, because Jolni wa's now always near them; indeed, he no longer slept in the lodge, but at the lioiise, in the room with his baothers. The major j)art of the day he passed at the lodge, or in company with the old hunter ; but, by tliis new arrangement, they gradually became, as it were, one family ; not a day passed that the Strawberry did not come to their house and make herself usefid, assisting in everything that she could, and rapidly learning what she did not know. Ore or two e"c::ip""s aftc* the message from the fort, ..Irs, Campbell asked Malaehi some (piestions relative to tlu' habits of the beaver, as she had heard much of the sagacity of that animal '" Well, ma'am," said Malaehi, " it's a most reasonable animal, certainly, and I will say, I never was tired with watching them ; I've even forgot, in the sunmier-time, what 1 came out for, from having fallen in with them at work." " And so have I," said Martin. " I once was lying down under a bush by the side of a stream, and I saw a whole council of them meet together, and thev talked after their own fashion so earnestly, and I really think they have a language as good as our own. It's always the old ones who talk, and the young ones who listen." " That's true," replied Malaehi. " I once myself saw them hold a council, and then they all separated to go to work, for they were about to dam up a stream and build their lodges." "And what did they do, Malaehi?" said Mrs. Campbell. " Why, ma'am, they did all the same as Christians would have done. The Injuns say that beavers liave souls as well as themselves, and certainly, if sense gave souls, the Injuns would be in the right. The first thing that they did was to appoint their sentinels to give notice of danger; for the moment any one comes near them, these sentinels give the signal and away they all dive, and disappear till the danger is over." "There are many beasts as well as birds that do the same," observed Mr. Campbell ; " indeed, most of those which are gregarious and live in flocks." "That's true, sir," replied Martin. 141 I Mil :: : : ! 11 11 IK SIVni.I'lJS IN CANADA *' W'rII, m.i'.im, I In* lMa\vlii(-li stream orwatrrliiry may dam up so as lo I'orm a lart^o pond of a siillicicnl depth l)y the waltr (lo\vin«;' ov«'r and eov»Min<;; the Hal or lioltom several feet; and when they have found I he spol they re(piire, they he^in their work." *' Perhaps," ohserved Mr. ("amphell, " this ejn>iee reipiires more sagacity than the rest ol" I heir labour, lor the he.avers Mjusl h.ave sonu* e;i<:ineerinii- lahnt to make the stdeetion. I'hev nmsl be able loealeulate as exactly as il'thev took their levels, to secure the size and depth of water in tin; pond which is iie<'essary. It istlu>nu)st wonderlnl, perhaps, of all the instincts, or reasonim; powers rather, allot t»(l to them." "It is, sir; and I've often thouy;ht so," replied Malachi ; ".uul tlu'n t»> see how they carry all their tools about them ; a carpenlcr's basket could not be belter ])rovided. Their slroui;' teeth serve ns axes lo cut down the trees; then their tails serve as trowels f(»r tlu>ir mastm's w«)rk ; their fonvfei^t they use just as we do oin* hands, and their tails arc also emph)yetl as littli^ carts or wheelbarrows." '' Pray no on, Malachi," said Mary ; " I am (piitc; interested already." *' Well, miss, I have known these little creatures as they are, raise banks four or five hinulred paces in len!»th, and a matter of twenty feet hiu;h in some parts, besides bein^ sev(Mi or eis>;ht feet thick; and all in one season, — perhaps live or six month's work." " Hut how many of them do you reckon are jvt the work ? " said Henry. " Perhaps a hundred ; not more, I should say." " Well ; but how do they raise these banks, Malachi ? " said Emma. "There, miss, they show what sense they liavc. I've often watched them when they have been sawintjf throuj^h the large trees with the front teeth ; they could not carry the tree, that's sartin, if the whole of them were to set to work, so they always pick out the trees by the banks of the stream, and they examine how the trees incline, to see if they will fall into the stream ; if not, they will not cut them down ; and when they are euttinji; them down, and they are nearly ready for falling, if the wind should change and be against the fall, they will 142 H H riii: si"/n"Li:i{s i\ can a da hrir work. I .1 il.il or as to I'onu »\\in<;' ovti* wIuMi lluy worU. ('«• rr(|nir('s lu' Ixavrrs ' sch'clioii. ' took tlu'ii' I the pond )S, ol'all llu; u'in. " (1 Malaclii ; )out. Ilirni ; led. 'I'lwir llun their Mr i'orc-IV'cl. ils arc also l; iiitorcslcd res as they jo'tli, and a )ein<; srvrn laps live or [he work ? " leave that tr(-<' till tlic wind will a^.sisl tlirni. \ As s«»on ns tl le trees are down, they saw oU the liranelies and arms, and float the lo^ (hiwn to when; the dam is to he made ; they lay them across, and as they lay them one u|>(»n the oilier, of eonr^:e th(; water rises and enahles them to lloat down and place the upper oni's. Hnt Ixl'ore that, as soon as the lower lo/;s are in tlu'ir pk'ices, the animals j^o and letch lon;r irrass and clay, which they load npon their Hal. tails, and dra^ to the dam, Oiling lip tlu; hoh's hetwcen the timlier till it is as strong uh a wall, and tlu; water is completely slopped. " " >'es," said Martin ; " I have heard them at ni^ht working away so hard and (lapping and spallerin<; with their tails, that I could ima<;ine there were (illy men at work instead of a hundred of these small animals, lint tluy work hy day and by ni^ht, and never seem tired, till the dam is sound and their •Iel< work IS comp " Hnt tin; raisin*^; of the dam is only preparatory, is it not, to their building' their own houses.''" ol)served Mrs. (amphell. " Nothing nior(;, ma'am ; and 1 think the rest of" the work is (piite Hs wonderful." " Hut it is time to ^o to bed," observed Mr. Campbell, "and we must, therefon;, leave the remainder of Malachi's story till another evening," " I am suih; that there is not one of the party vsho is more anxious to hear it than I am," replied Mrs. Campbell, rising, " but as yon say, it is past ten o'clock, and Malaehi and the Strawberry have to go home;, so good-night." "Oh, dear! what a pity!" cried Hercival, "I shall dream of beavers all niulit, I'm sure I sluill." ^cbi ? " said I've often Ih the large Itree, that's Ihey always and tlicy dl into the dicn they lor falling, I, they will CTTAPTER XXITl 1^ Oil two or three days, Mr. Campbell was very busy making out an inventory of the articles which he rccpiired. His funds at (^uebce were r/ither low, but the communication which his agent had made to him of Mr. I). Campbell's intention of ])aying for the green-house and hot-house plants, made him feel very easy on that score ; and he now determined to pro- cure a small flock of sheep, and one or two of the Canadian \L i' ifi I ! TriK SKTTf-KnS IN CANADA ponies or pillownys, as thry would soon he i'(M|iiii'c(l for llie larni, as will as two oarts or li^Iit wa^^ons nscil in the country. In tilt' nil anlinK', AWVt;(l, Martin, and Henry were very busy |)uttin<; the seed in ht'tween tlu; stumps of the felled tiniher, merely hoein,, or Indian corn. As soon as the svvx\ was in, they all set to puttin<^ n|i a hi<;-li fence round the cleared l.ind, which was done with split rails made from the whitt; cedar, which ^rew in a swamp about half a mile distant, and which, it may be remend)ere(i, had in a ^rcat measure been provided by the soldiers who had be(Mi lent to assist them on their arrival, 'i'he piece of prairie land, on the side of the stream next to the house, was |)ut apart for an early crop of hay, and as soon as they could, they intended to turn the cows into the bush, that is, to feed in the forest, that they mii^ht obtain hay from the other side, which had belon^ecl to Malachi ; but the prairie recpiired to be fenced in, and this was the job that they took in hand as soon as the seeds were sown. " I hope, w hen the Colonel comes over," observed Martin to Alfred, " that we shall persuade him to let us have some soldiers this summer, for we shall want them both for the fencing and ^ettin^ the hay-crop in. Our summers arc not very long, and there is plenty to do." " I think my father intends to make the recpiest," replied Alfred. " Ah, sir ; he will now sec the value of this bit of prairie land to a new settler ; instead of having to go in search of hay, as they must do at the fort now, we have j)lenty for hay, and plenty for feed. So we are to have some sheep, I find } " " Yes, and I suppose we must build a winter-yard for them." "To be sure we must, for the wolves are very partial to mutton ; I think, on the whole, that they like pigs better. I wish we could get the fence up round the prairie, but that we never can do this year without we have help from the fort." •((I for I Ik- he oountry. L« very Imsy IU(l timber, jicli w.is all I was alxMit 1(1 the otlur t' tlie stream h inai/(*, or jt t(» putting IS done with in a s\vam|> •emembered, icrs wlio liad •ce of prairie use, was put y could, they s, to feed in l; other side, e recpiired to )k in hand as crved Martin is have some Iboth for the Imers arc not lest," replied |l)it of prairie in search of e plenty for some sheep, iter-yard for try partial to pigs better, prairie, but le help from TMK SKI ri, Kits IN CANADA " Hut uill it be safe l«> tuili the etiws into llie bush f" "Oh yes, sir; lliey will not be hurl by aiiylliinn in the suunnerlime; sonulinies we have trouble to lind lluiu a;;aiM, but not when they have eaKis ; lluy ait: certain l«» come home every evining to Iheir youn^- ones." •' VVe shall have (juite a herd of caltle ; ei;;ht calves and eight cows. " We nuist only bring up the cow calves, unless your father intends lo have oxen for I he yoki . W'e shall re(|uin- them about the lime they are fit to brea.'>- in, ihat is, in l\v«> ov three years." " Ves, we shall be great farmers by-and-by," replied AH'recl with a sigh ; for at the moment he was Ihinking of Captain Liuuley and his nautical profession. In the evening of the day on which this conversation lo»»k placo, Malachi Hone was requested to resume his observations up«»n the beavers. " Well, ma'am, as I said the other night, as soon as they have dannued up the river and made the lake, Ihey then build their iiouses ; .anil how they manage to work under water and tix the posts in the ground is a pu/./le to me, but they do fix six posts in the ground, and very firndy, and then they build their house, which is very ctn'ious ; it is in the; form of a large oven, and made of clay and fat earth, mixed up with branches and herbs of all sorts ; they have three sets of rooms, one above the other, so that if the water rises from a freshet or sudden thaw, they may be able to move higher and keep theujsiilves dry. J'^aeh beaver has his own little rocnn, and the entrance is made under the water, so that they dive down to go into it, and nothing can harm them. (( curious ! and what do thev live upon, Mow very Malachi .>" "The bark of what we call asp-wood, ma'am, which is a kiiul of sallow; they lay up great (piantities of it in the autumn as a provision for winter, when they are frozen up for some months. " "Well, but how do you take thcin, Malachi.'*" "There are many ways, ma'am; sometimes the Indians break down the dam, and let off the water, and then they kill them .all except a dozen of the females and h.-df-a-dozcn males ; after which they stop up the dam again, that the 145 K If ' «.'•' ^'! 1 I I 'I \ f 1 I THK SFXi'LKHS IN CANADA animals may breed and increase ; sometimes, wlieii the ocavei* lake is frozen hard, they break into the beaver house from the top ; when they do that, the beavers all dive and escape, but as they must come up to breathe at the holes in t!ie ice, they place nets and take them in that way, but they always leave a sullicient lunnber to keep up the stock ; they also take them in traps baited with the asp-wood ; but that is more diflicult." " Hut there is another sort of beaver, ma'am, called the land-beaver, which is more easily taken," observed Martin ; "they make holes in the earth like rabbits. The Indians say that these beavers are those who are lazy and idle, and have been driven out by the others for not working." " Now, tell us what you do when you go out to hunt the beaver in the winter, Malachi ? " " We never hunt the beaver only, ma'am ; we go out to hunt everything; we go to the beaver lakes, and then we set our traps for beaver, otter, martin, minks, cats, foxes, and every other animal, some traps large and some small. We build our hut, and set our traps all about us, and examine them every day ; we cut what flesh is good, and we emjiloy ourselves skinni'ig the animals which we take." " Is the beaver flesh good .''" " Yes, ma'am, very tolerable eating ; perhaps the best we And at that time." " But what a miserable life that must be," said Mrs. Campbell." "Well, ma'am, you may think so, but we hunters think otherwise," replied Malachi; "we are used to it, and to being left alone to our own thoughts." " That's true," observed Martin ; "I'd rather pass the winter hunting beavers than pass it at Quebec, miserable as you may imagine the life to be." " There uuist be a charm in the life, that is certain," observed Sir. Campbell ; " for how many are engaged in it who go out year after year, and never think of laying up any of their earnings." " Very true, sir," replied Martin ; " what they make from their skins is spent as soon as they get to Quebec, as I know well, and then they set off' again." " Why they are like sailors," observed Alfred, " who, after 146 J i^ THE SET'lLKUS 1\ CANADA the ocavcr liousc from aiul escape, , in the ice, they always ; they also but that is , called the \,'Qx\ Martin; ; Indians say le, and have to hunt the fe go out to [uid then we ts, foxes, and ; small. We and examine ,d we emi)loy the best we ," said Mrs. nniters think and to being |ier pass the miserable as is certain," Ingaged in it lying up any ly make from ic, as I know " who, after a long cruise, spend all their w.i^es and pri/e-money in a few days, and then go to sea jigain lor more." " Exactly," replied Malachi ; "and what's the use of money if you keej) it ? A tr.'ij)per can always lake up as nuich powder and ball as he wants upon credit, and pay with a portion of his skins on his return. What does he want with the rest .'' It's of no use to him, and so of course he spends it." " IJut would it not be better to put it by until he had sutiicient to buy a farm, and live comfortably ?" "But does he live comfortably, ma'am.''" said Malachi; " has he not more work to do, more things to look after, and more to care for with a farm, than when he has nothing .'' " "It's very true philosophy, after all," observed Mr. Camp- bell ; " happy is the man w ho is content to be poor. If a nian prefers to live entirely upon flesh, as the himtcrs do, there is no reason why he should work h.ird and till the ground to procure bread ; when the wants are few, the cares are few also ; but still, even the savage nujst feci the necessity of exertion when he has a wife and family." "Yes, sir, to be sure he does, and he works haril in his own way to procure their food; but lrap|)ers seldom have wives; they would be no use to them in the woods, and they have no one to provide for but themselves." "It appears to me like a savage life, but a very independent one," said Mrs. Campbell, "and 1 presmne it is the indepen- dence which gives it such charms." That's it, depend upon it, ma'am," replied Martin. Hut what do you do all the sunnner time, Malachi .''" Why, ma'am, we take to our rifles then; there are the deer, and the lynx, and the wild cats, and s(|uirrels, and the bear, and many other animals to look after ; and sometimes we go bee-luniting, for the lioney." " Pray tell us how y«)U take the honey, Malachi." "Why, ma'am, the bees always live in the hollow of the old trees, and it's very diffieidt in a forest to find them out, for the hole which they enter by is very small and very high up sometimes ; however, when we get a lead, we generally manage it." "Tell us what you mean, Malachi." "We catch the bees as they settle upon the flowers to 147 << l . <•) U', I ' I: I THE SF/n'LEUS IN CANADA obtain honey, and then wc let them ^o again. The bee, as soon as it is alh)we(l to escape, flies straight toward its hive ; we watch it till we can no longer see it, and v alk in that direction and catch another, and so we go on till we see them settle upon a tree, and then we know that the hive and honey must be in that tree, so we cut it down." " How very clever," said Percival. " It requires a sharp eye, though," s<'ud Martin, *' to watch the bee far ; sonic of the trappers catch the bees and give them sugar mixed with whisky. This makes them tipsy, and they cannot fly so fast, and then they dis- cover the hive much sooner, as they can run almost as fast as the bee flies." " That's capital," cried Percival; "but tell me, Martin, how do you kill the bears .'' " " Why, Master Percival, with our rifles, to be sure ; the easiest way to kill them is when they are in their holes in the hollow trees." " How do you get them out ? " " Why, we knock the tree with our axes, and they come out to see what's the njatler, and as soon as they put tiieir iieads out, we shoot them." "Are you in earnest, Martin.^" " Yes, ma'am ; (|uite in earnest," replied Martin. " It's all true, ma'am," said the hunter ; " the bears about here are not very savage. We had nuicli worse down in Maine. I've seen the Indians in a canoe on a river watching the bears as they swam across, and kill in the water six or seven in one ilav. " '' Still a bear is an awkward sort of anim.il when it's angry," replied Martin; "and, as we njay have them down here in the autumn, it's as well not to let them le thought too lightly of." "Iiuleed, there's no fear of that," said ]*Lnnna ; "as for Malachi, he thinks nothing dangerous ; but I have no wish to see a bear. You say we may expect them, Martin. Why so .'' " " Because, miss, they are very fond of maize, and we have a field of it sown, wMiich may tempt them." "Well, if they do come, I nuist trust to my rifle," replied Ennna, laughing; "at all events, I do not fear them so much as I did when I first came here." 148 I ;!' i i u ■I I ['he bee, as 1(1 its hive ; ilk in that e see them ; and honey lartin, " to h the bees I'his makes :n they dis- most as fast Vlartiii, how 2 sure ; the holes in the they come ;y put their 1. bears about ,e down in ler watcliing ater six or it's an^^ry," |wn here in [houj»ht too |ia; "as for no wish to Why so ? " lul we have |e," replied -m so much jf THE SETTLERS IN CANADA "Don't fire, miss, without you're sin*e of killinjT," said Malac'hi. "The creatures arc very d;my Ibis means I oradually not up aoain to the h(»le that I fell in .it, aid ])crched myself .across the timber to fetch niy I had not been there more than a (piarler of a >re.'i th minute, and I intended to have remained nmch lonuer, when I pe •eived, .all of a sudden, the bear's head within a font of me ; he had clintbed up after me, and 1 .s.iw th.at he w.'is very ani!;'ry, so in a monuMit I threw myself off n)y perch, and down I went to the oround at the foot of the tree, si matter of near twenty feet, (Men (aster than I went down inside of it. I was severely shaken with the fall, but no boi es were broken ; in 14.9 tt '■I i'.i 'II iW THE SETTLERS IN CANADA fact, I was more frin;litene(l llian liurt ; I lay quite still for a little while, when the I'lowl of the bear put )ne in mind of him ; I jumped on my lei^s, and found that lie was coming down the tree after me, and was within six feet of the ground. There was no time to lose;; I caught up my rifle, and had just ^iine to put it to his ear and settle him, as he was placing his lore-foot on the ground." " What a narrow escape ! " "Well, perhaps it was, but there's no saying, miss, which beats till the fight is over." I ^•< CHAPTER XXTV JSl. notice arrived that the departure of the boat to Montreal would take place on the next morning. When the boat came up, it brought Captain Sinclair, to the great delight of the whole party, who had felt very anxious about one with whom they had so long been intimate and who had shown them so much kindness. His knee was almost well, and as soon as the first interrogations were over, he made known to them that he had obtained six weeks' leave of absence, and was about to proceed to Quebec. "To Quebec!" cried I'jnma, "and why are you going to Quebec ? " "To confess the truth, Emma," said Caj^tain Sinclair, "my journey to Quebec is but the preparatory step to my return to I'Lngland for perhaps two or three months." " To England ! Oh ! how I wish — ; " but here Emma stopped : she was going to say how much she wished that she was going also, but her uncle and aunt were present, and, recollecting that it might j)ain them and induce them to think that she was discontented, she added, "that you would bring me out all the new fashions." "All the new fashions, my dear Panma?" said Henry. " Why, do you wish to be fashionably dressed in the woods of Canada.^ " "Why not?" excl.iimed Enmia, who felt that she must a))pear to be very foolish, but could not get out of her scrape. " 1 can look at mysell' in the glass, at all events." 150 ). ;till for a inind of 5 coiiiinf:^ ; ground, had just acing his ss, which boat to kVhen the at delight one with ad shown jll, and as iknown to nice, and agoing to air, " my ly return •c Ennna led that present, lee them that you Henry, ic woods cforc, my fyreatest wish is to rejoin my regiment." "Whether yon come back or remain/' observed Mr. Campbell, "you will always Ii.ive our best wishes, Captain Sinelair. We are not unii;rati;f'id for your kindness to us." " Nor shall I lorj^et the many hap])y Ijours I have ])assed in your society," rej)lie(l (Japtain Sinelair; " but we shall be n)elaneholy it' wc talk too loni? upon the subject. The boat cainiot remain more than two hoiu's, and Henry nnist be ready by that time. The connnandant is anxious that it should start for Montreal this very eveninn." "Then, indeed, wc have no time to lose," observed Mr. Campbell ; " Henry, jijet your trunk ready, and Martin will take it down ini«» the boat before we sit down to ditnier. It will be a lon^' while before we have you to dine with us ai^ain," C(, tinned Mr. Campbell to Captain Sinclair ; "but I wish you your health and nnich hap[)iness till you retin*n. ("ome, ^irls, look after the dinner. Mary ! where's Mary .' " "She went into the room a lew niinutes ai»o," said l^nnna, " but I'm here, and can do all that is required without her or my aunt eithci. Come, I'ercival, lay tin; cloth ; Alfred, eome and htlp me, this is almost too heavy for mc. Oh, here comes my aunt: now you may j><) away, Alfred; we can «;"et on better without you. ' "There's gratitude," said Alfred, lau.<>hin/r. As Henry had been in daily expectation of the summons, he was not lon«]f in his ])reparations, and in a few miimtes made his appearance, acco..ipanied by Mary Percival. i'hey then sat down to dinner, not very cheerful, for Captain Sinclair's unexpected departm'c had thrown a jjloom over them all ; however, they rallied a little toward the close of the meal, and Mr. (^•n)i))bell produced one of his bottles of wine to drink succ(;ss and happiness to the travels is. It was then time to start. Ca|)tain Sinclair and Ilc'nry shook hands with Mrs. C!ampbell and the Miss IVn^ivals, and accompanied by the gentlemen of the ))arty, walked down to the beach, " I can't bear parting with any one that I have beoi so intimate with," said iMuma, after they were left alone. " 1 declare I cotild sit down and have a hearty cry at Capt.-iin Sinclair's departure." Mary sighed, but made no answer. 15a i \ \ fore, my ved Mr. , Captain [) us." ]).*is.se(l shall be i'lic boat imist be s that it rved Mr. irlin will niier. It with lis ■; "but I II return. Mary r " (1 I'innna, Mit hrr or red, eon)e ,( )h, here :; ean u'ct iummons, minutes 'i'liey Captain Dm over elose of )ottles of It was [>k hands ►mpanied )eaeh. been so >ne. " 1 Captain i TIIF, SFTTLRnS IN CANADA '• } am not stn*nriscd to iicar von sav so, Kanua," said Mrs ami) .bell. y In l-oiie on : on a huntini;- expedition, and the Strawberry Avas at her own Iodide. TIu^ ]>"'H'ty that sat in the kitchen in the evcniiii; was, ther»*fore, nnich reduced, and the takinjjf fan-well of Captain Siiu'I.iir did not dispose them to be very lively. A few words were exehani>e(l now and then, but tin; conversation drooped, l^nnna s|)oke of Ca))tain Sinclair's expectations and projects. " V\'e never know what may come in this world of chan«.ie, my dear I'-nnna," said Mr. Campbell. "All Captain Sinclair's plans may be o\erthrown by <'ircumstances over which he has no control. How seldom do we meet with risults c(|ual to our expectations. \\'hen I was praclisinjjf in my prof(;ssion, I little expected tiiat I should be sunnnoiu<] to take possession of VVexton Hall ; when once in j^osscssion, as little did I expect that I should b«' obliged to (piit it, and to come to these desolate wilds. We are in the hands of (iod, who does Mith us as He thiuks (it. 1 liaM- been readin<»- this niorniny, and I inade the observation not only how often individuals, but even nations, are out in their expectations. I rovii.ees, attempted to wrest from us those portions of America which v^e occupied. What was the result } After a war which, for cruelly and atrocity, is perhaps un Mpialled in history, both parfi<"^ o upK y- iniifsav t*"*. bv vlu m the Fr possessions. Hut little did the French king and his noblesse imagine, that in upholding (he principles of the Americans, 154 ;f , ( TMK sm"ri,F-:i{s in canada )ave been ul aiitici- tliat the uijitcd lo occupied. iicl*.y and !- (• iipl( y- Itcrnaicly to obtain jr its own in which mcc. irospcrous DSC of the list. She not resist le French ijwliercas ladas that 1 held this frontiers, id protec- ? they (hd > trance at was in- ontcahn he dnty ch if the no longer lese same lat they ndepen- )ut quite their in- riot have nny and Canadas, Vmeric{ii> noblesse uericans, ( and nllowincf the I'rciich arnjics and navies (1 may say the people of l''raiicc cii ni/ixxe) to be imbued with iUv same prin- oip.cs of ecpiality, tir t they wcrt; sowini; Uu* seeds of a revo- lutioM in their owr country which was to brin<^ llu^ kin<;-, as well as the m;ij<'r |)art of the nobility, to the scaffold. "'riicrc, a« ctaUon, and you will observe in ev<'ry all<'inpt made by cither party, the result was, that tlie blow fell up«ni their own heads, and not upon that of the party which it was in- tended to crush." " I r'^niembcr," said Alfred, after Mr. Campbell had finished S|)cakii!;^, "havini; somewhere read a stor* ..'' >\u Eastern king who purchased a proverb of a dervise, wi.ic! 'w. ordered to be enufrav<'n on all the gold and silv( uti ils in the j)alace. The proverb was, * Never under* 'c Myihing until yon have well considered the end.' It so ' .t|)pcned, that there was a coTispiracy against the king, nd it was arranged that his surgeon slu>uld bleed him wil^ j.oisoned lancet. The surgeon agreed — the king's arm was bound up, and one oi* the silver basins was held to receive the blood. The surgeon read the inscription, and was so struck with the force of it, that he threw down the lancet, confessed the .jilot, and thus w.is the life of the king preserved." "A very apt story, Alfred," said l\'rs. Campbell. "The (piestion now is," continued Alfred, "as two of the parties, France and l^'ngland, have proved so short-sighted, whether the Americans, having thrown off their allegiance, have not been C(pially so in their choice of a democratical government ? " '^ How far a modern democracy may succeed, I am not pre- pared to say," replied Mr. Camj)i)eH ; " but this I do know, that in ancient times their duration was generally very short, and contiinially changing to oligarchy and tyranny. One thing is certaiii, that there is j'o form of goverinncnt under which the j)eople become so rapidly vicious, or where those who benefit them are treated with such ingr.ititude." " J-'ow do you account for that, sir?" said Alfred. "There are two principal causes. One is, that where all men are declared to be e(jual (which man never Avill permit his fellow to be if he can prevent it), the only source of dis- tinction is wealth, and thus the desire of wealth becomes the 1.5.5 i f THE SKTTLRHS IN CANADA I H >; riilincf passion of tlic wImjU" Ixuly, hiuI tlicn^ is no passion so (U'uioralisin^. Thr other is, that when; the juiople, or, more properly speaking, the mob govern, they must he coneihaled by Hattery and serviHly on the p.irt of those who wonhl be- eome tlieir idols. Now Hattery is lyiny,, and a habit etjually dcmoralisin<^ to the party who jL^ives and to the |)arty who reeoives it. Depend upon it, there is no j;overnment so con- temptible or so im])U.isant for an honest man to live unch'r as a demoer.'iey." "It is my opinion, sir, and I believe a very general one," said Alfred. " How far the Americans may disprove sneh an opinion," continued Mr. Campbell, "remains lo be se(;n ; but this is certain, they have connnenccd their new form of ^overmnent with an act of sneh ^ross injustice, as to warrant the assump- tion that all their boasted virtues are pretence. I refer to their not liberatint any of us here present may see the day, wluMi the retribution will fall upon their heads, or rather upon the lieads of their oH'sprinir ; for thti sins of the fathers are visited npon the children, even to the third and fourth ijeneration. !?ut it is time for us to think of re- tirinj^ — injjf home. Indeed, it was hardly worth while .t?oino- out to hunt just then, so they both remained much at home, either fishin«i; in the lake, or taking trout in the stream. Alfred and Martir. were still occupied witii the farm ; the seed had eotno uj), and they were splitting 156 TIIK SKITLRHS IN CANADA [).'ission so , or, more oncilitittMl kvoiild hv- it e(|iially Kirly wlu» lit so con- ivr iiinirr pral one," opinion," till this is ►vcrnnicnt e ass I nil I )- I refer to the lie to ii(h'nee, in Tree, and vho, Av!ien hohl their e, I have •sent may I'ir heads, lie sins of he tliird nk of re- itli thoni it at this )Oor, that d, it was hey lioth or taking oeenpied splittinjyr rails for the prairie fence. About a fortni;r|it after Captain Sinclair's departme, Coltincl Forster came in a boat from the furt, to pay them a visit. "1 assure you, Mr. Campbell," said he, " I was very anxious about you last winter, and I am rejoiced that you ^ot over it with so little difliculty. ;U one time wir had apprehensions of the Indians, but these have passed over for the present. They nieet a^ain this smnmer, but the (Quebec government are on the alert, and I have no doubt but that a little con- ciliation will put an end to all animosity. We expect a lar^e supply of Itlankets and other articles to be sent up this sprin*^, as presents to the tribes, which we ho|)e will proctne their ^ood-will ; and we have taken up several French emissaries, who were working mischief." " Hut still we shall be liable to the assaults of stra<^^lin;; parties," said Mr. Campbell. "That is true," replied the Colonel, " but afj.nnst them you liave vour own means of defence. ^ ou woidd, in so isolated .1 position, be equally liable to a bur<;lary in J'in,i>lan(l- only with th(^ dilference that in ICm^land vou would have the laws to appeal to, whereas here you must take the law into your own hands.'' " It certainly is not pleasant to be in a continual si.ite of anxiety," observed Mr. C.impbell, ''but we knew what we had to expect bef»)rc we came here^ and we nnist make the best of it. So you have lost Caj)tain Sinclair, Colonel ; he is a f^reat loss to us." "Yes, he is to ,i»«» to Rn<;land for a short time," replied the Colonel, "but we shall soon have him back attain. lie nmst be very fond of his profession to remain in it with his means." " He told us that he was about to take possession of a small property." " A projierty of nearly Jl^tiOOi) j)er annum," replied the Colonel. " lie may consider it a small property, but I should think it otherwise if it had fallen to my lot." " Indeed I had no idea, from what he said, that it was so large," said Mrs. Campbell. "Well, I have a high opinion of him, and have no doubt but that he will make a good use of it." "At all events he can afford the luxury of a wife, said the Colonel, laughing, " which we soldiers seldom can." 157 M fr pi ; » '1 t : tl'l.i ''( THK Sl<7n*I-KI{S IN CANADA The CoUmel llicii entered into eonversution with Mr. Caniphell, rel.'ilivi; to ills i'arni, and after many ({uestions, he ohserved : '• 1 have been thinking, Mr. ( anipbell, lliat it will be very advanla/jfeous to tlie government as well as to you, when yonr farm is cleared and stocked, if, with tiie water-power you j)ossess here, you were to erect a Hour-mill and a saw-mill. Vou observe that the government has to supply the fort with flour and provisions of all kinds at a very heavy expense of oarri.'ige, and the cattle we have at the fort will cost us more than they are worth, now that we have lost your prairie farm, so conveniently situated for us. On the other hand, your produec will be almost useless to you, at the distance you are from any niart ; as you will not find .'»My sale for it. Now, if you were to erect a mill, and grind jour own wheat, which you may do in another year, if you ha\e funds sufiicient ; and as you may have plenty tif slock, you will be able to suj)ply the fort with floin*, beef, pork, and nmtton, at a good profit to yourself, and at one-half Ihe price which go\ ernment pays at present. 1 have written to the (Jovernor on the subject, staling that we have not the means of keeping our slock, and j)oinling (»uL lo him what I now point out to you. 1 expect an answer in a few d.iys, and should he authorise me, 1 may make avr.ingcmcnts with ytiu even now, which will be satis- faelorv, I have no iloid)l." Mr. Campbell returned the Colonel many thrndvs for his kindness, and of course expressed himself willing to be guideil by his advice. He stated that he had funds not only suitieient to erect a null, but also, if he were perujitted, to pay for the labour of any piirty of men which the com- mandant Avoidd spare during the sinnmer season. "That is the very p»)int which I wished to ascertain; but I felt some delicacy about making the in(piiry. Now 1 eon- siiler that there will be no dillicultv in our arranffements." The Colonel remained for somt; time looking over the farm and conversing with Mr. Campbell, and then took his leave. In the meantime, Alfrt'd and his cousins went out to walk ; the we.ither was now beautifully clear, and in the afternoon the heat was not too oj)pressive. As they sauntered by the side of the stream, Mary said, "Well, Alfred, what do you think of the Colonel's proposition } " 158 TlIK SKT'n.KHS IN C ANAI>A with Mr. sUuiiSj lie 11 be very vheii your (iwcr v«>»> s.'iw-iuill. I Tort with xpciise of ,t us more iiirie lunn, laiul, your ce you are Now, if eat, which •lent ; and to supply rood profit uieiit pays je subject, slock, anil 1 expect |nie, I may 1 be salis- iks for his injr to be s not only initted, to the eom- rtain ; but low 1 C(MI- meiits." r the farm lis leave, t to walk ; afternoon ed by the at do you "Yes," observed I''nuna, "you are a parly iheply con- cerned in it." " How s(», dear co/, .'' " '* Why, don't you perceive that if the mill is erected, you will be the proper person to have char^^- of ill' What a change of professions, from a sailor to a miller. I think 1 see you in your coat, all while wilh flour, coming in to dinner." " My dear Knnna, you don't intend it, I am sure, but y<»u do not know that you txrc inllictin<>' pain n|)on nu'. W'lien the Colonel made the proposition, 1 felt the importance of it, as it would be a source of great prolit to my father; but at the same time, I don't know how it is, 1 have always indulged the idea that we may not slay here lor ever, and this ])lan appeared .so like decidedly settling down t(> a residence for life, that it made me low-spirited. 1 know that it is foolish, and that we have no chance of ever removing bul still I cannot, even with this almost certainty before my eyes, kiep my mind from thinking upon one (lay ritnrning to my profession, and the idea of becoming a miller for lift is what 1 cainiot as yet contemplate wilh any degree «»1 composure." "Well, Alfred, 1 oidy did it lo tease you a little- not to hurt your feelings, believe me," replietl I'juma. " Voii shall not be a miller if you don't like it. Henry will do belter, perhapS; than you ; but as for our (piitling this place, 1 have no idea of it's being ever possible. 1 have made up my mind to live and die in the ('anadian woods, considering: it my wayward fate that all ' my sweetness should be wasted on the desert air.' " " Hcpining is useless, if not sinfid," observed Mary Percival. "We have nmch lo be thankful ior ; at least wc are inde- pendent, and if we are ever to repay the kindness of our uncle and aunt who nmst feel their change of condition so nmch Mjorc than we do, it nuist be by cheerfulness and content, I have been thinking as well as you, Alfred, and I'll tell V'»u what was in my thoughts. I looked forward to a few years, by which time, as the country fills uj) so f.ist. it is very probable that we shall have other settler*; Ik re as neighbours, in every direction. This will give lu- security. I also fancied that my uncle's farm and prpoertv became of 159 1' E* (I .il. ). ^ il 'I >! THE SRTTLERS IN CANADA value and iiii);ortaiicCj and that lie liiiiiscif became a le.uiin^ man in the (listriet ; not only at his ease^ but, for a settler, even wealthy ; and then I ianeied that, siu'roimded by others, in perfect security, and in easy and independent ci cmn- btanees, uiy ancle would not fory;et the s.'icriOce which my cousin Alfred so nobly made, and would insist upon his returniiiijf to that profession to which he is so nuieh allaeheil, and in M'hieh 1 have mo doubt but that lie will distinguish himself." " Well said, my sweet prophet," said iVlfred, kissing his cousin, "you have more sense than both of us." "Answer for youself, Alfred, if you please," said Ennna, tossing her head as if allVonted. '* 1 sh.-Jl not forget that remark of yours, I can assure you. Now, I prophesy (juite the contrary; Alfred will never go to sea again. He will be taken with the charms of some Scotch settler's daughter, some Janet or Moggy, and settle uown into a Canadian farmer, mounted on a long-legged black pony." "And I tt)o," replied Alfred, "prophesy, that at the sam«; time that I marry and settle as you have tiescribed, Miss I'^iinma IVrcival Avill yield up lur charms to some long-legged, black, Mondescript sort of a. fellow, who will set up a whisky- shop and instal his wife as barm.iid to attend upon and conciliate his customers." " Ennna, 1 think you have the worst of this peeping into futurity," said Mary, laughing. " Ves, if Alfred were not a false j»rophet, of which there are always many going about," replied Ennna; "however, I hope yom* prophecy may be the true one, Mary, and then we shall get rill of him." " I Hatter myself that you woulil be very sorry if I went away ; vou woidil have no one to te.ise, at all events," re[)lied Alfred, "and that would be a sad loss to yourself." "Well, there's some sense in that remark," said I'.nnna ; " but the cows are waiting to be milked, and so, Mr. Alfretl, if you are on your good behaviour, you had better go and bring us the pails," "I really pity Alfred," said Mary, as soon as he was out of hearing ; " his sacritice has been very great, and, nuich as he nuist feel it, how well he bears up against it." "He is a dear, noble fellow," replied Emma; "and I li'J sc tiler, olhcr^, ci'cinu- licli my poll l»is Uiichcil, tinguisU sing his I Eninui) rgct Unit esy (|uitc [e will l)c il;iiigl»tcr, in fiinncr, the sauHi ibeil, Miss iijr-k-ijfired, a whisky- iiiul upon cping into lich there n)Nvever, I ul then we it' I went ;s," replieil id Kinma; ^r. AllVetl, ter jj;o juuI was out of nnch as he '• and I THE SETTr.l<:RS I\ CANADA do love him very much, although I cainiot help teasing him." " But on some points you should be cautious, my dear sister; you don't know what i)ain you give." " Yes, I do, and am always sorry when I have done it, but it is not until afterward that I recollect it, and then I am very angry with myself. Don't scold me, dear Mary, I will try to be wiser. I wonder whether what you say will come to |)ass, and we shall have neighbours; I wish we had, if it were oidy on account of those Indians." "I think it very probable," replied Mary; "but tinu* will show." Alfred then returned with the pails, ;iii(l the conversation to«)k another tiu'ii. A few days afterward a corporal arrived from tlu; fort, bringing letters /uul newspapers ; the first that they had received since the l)reaking up of the winter. 'I'he whole family were in connnotion as the intelligence was proclaimed ; Mary and Emma left the fowls which they were feeding ; Percival threw down the ))ail with which he was atleiuling the pigs ; Alfred r.in in from where he and Martin were busy splitting rails; all crowded round Mr, Campbell as hv opened the packet in which all the letters and papers h;id been enveloped at the fort. The letters were few ; three from Miss Paterson, and two other friends in ]''ng'';uul. giving them the English news; one to Alfred from Captain I.umley, inquiring after the family, and telling him that he had men- tioned his position to his friends at the Board, and that there could be no call for his services for the present ; one from Mr. Campbell's English agent, informing him that he had remitted the money paid by Mr. Douglas Campbell for the plants, &c., to his agent at (Quebec ; and another from his Quebec agent, advising the receipt of the money and enclos- ing a balance-sheet. The letters were first read over, and then the newspapers were distributed, and all of thr sendintj . ; " but at iir p].jighsh iglish, and I wc hvod ny ; it has ! land, but 30 will all made by in being try. Mi>y inHucnce rnrd from \\c Colonol with Mr. TMR SETTLERS IN CANADA Campbell. A party of tv/cnty soldiers had been sent to work at felling tit»d)er and splitting rails, for whose services Mr. Campbell paid as before. The winter house and palisade fence for the sheep were put. in hand, and great progre.ss was made in a short time, now that so many people were employed. They had also examined the streanj for some distance, to ascertain which would b<^ the most eligible site for the water-mill, and had selected one nearly half a mile froni the shore of the lake, and where there was a considcra!»le fall, and the stream ran with great rajiidity. It was not, however, expected that the mill would be creeled until the following year, as it was necessary to have a millwright and all the machinery from either Montreal or Quebec It was intended that the estimate of the expense should be j;iven in, the contract made, and the order given during the autumn, so that it might be all ready for tlie spring of the next year. It was on a Monday morning that Henry arrived from the fort, where he had stayed the Sunday, having reached it late on Saturday night. The halvnux, with the stock and stores, he had left at the fort; tluy were to come round during the day, but Ilein*y's i!n))atitnce to see the family would not allow him to Wait. lie was, as n>ay be supposed, joyfully received, and as soon as the first recog- nitionr were over, he proceeded to accjuaint his father with what he had done. He had obtained from a Canadian farmer forty ewes of very fair stock, although not anything Cipial to the English ; but the agent had \\*Mm\ hard for him, and procured him twenty T'nglish slieep «ikI two rams of the best kind, to improve the breed. For the latter he had to pay r.ither dear, !)ut they were worth any money to Mr. Campbell, who was quite delight<'d with the accpiisition. In selecting the sheeji, of course Henry was ol)liged to depend on the agent and the jiarties he employed, as he was no judge himself; but he had, upon his own judgment, purchased two Canadian horses, for Henry had been long enough at Oxford to know the |X)ints of a horse, and as they turned out, he had made a very good bargain. He had also bought a sow and pigs of an improvcfl breed, and all the other comniissions liad been properly executed ; the packages of skins also realised the price which had been put on them. As it may !>e sup|K)sed, he was full of news, talking about Montreal, the 1()J if '' ' • i < THE SFTTLKRS IN CANADA parties he had been invited to, ard the people witli whom he had become ac(|uainted. Me had not forgotten to purchase some of the latest EngHsh pubHcations for his cousins, besides a few articles of millinery, which he thought not too gay for their present position. He was still talking, and probably would have gone on talking for hours longer, so many were the questions which he had to reply to, when Martin came in and announced the arrival of the haleaux with the stores and cattle, upon which they all went down to the beach to sec them disembarked and brought up by the soldiers, who were at work. The stores were carried up to the door of th*; storehouse, and the sheep and horses were turned into the prairie with the cows. A weeks rations for the soldiers were also brought up from the fort, and the men were very busy in the distribution, and carrying Ihem to llu; Utile temporary huts of boughs which they had raised for their accommodation, during the time they worked for Mr. Campbell. Before the evening set in everything was arranged, and Henry was again surrounded by the family and replying to their remain- ing interrogatories. He told them that the Ciovernor of Montreal had sent them an invitatior to pass the winter at Government House, and promised the yoinig ladies that no wolf should venture to come near to them, and that the aides- de-camp had requested the honour of their hands at the first ball, which should be given after their arrival, at whi( h they all laughed heartily. In short, it appeared that nothing could equal the kindness and hospitality which had been shown to him, and that there was no doubt, if they chose to go there, that it would be ecpially extended to the other members of the family. There was a pause in the conversation, when Malachi addressed Mr. Campbell. " Martin wishes me to speak to you, sir," said Malachi. " Martin," said Mr. Campbell, looking n.und for him, and perceiving that he was not in the room ; " why, yes, I per- ceive he is gone out. What can it be that he cannot say for himself.'*" "That's just what I said to him," rej)lied Malachi; "but ht 'bought it were better to come Ihrough me ; the fact is, firr, that he has taken a liking to the Strawberry, and wishes to make hcv his .vife." 164 horn he )urchase , besides gjiy for irol>.il)ly iiy were ill came le stores )cach to crs, wlio )r of tbo into the iers were cry busy ;in])orary lodation, sforc the Miry was r rcmaiii- renior of wiiitir at i that no he aidcs- ; tlic first ij( h they nothing lad been chose to he other Malachi aclii. lim, and ;s, I per- )t say for n ; <( but ic fact is, id wishes I THE SiyiTLKltS IN CANADA "Indcfd!" '' \'cs, sir; I don't Ihink that he would have said nnylhing about it as yet, but you see, thtre are so many s»»l(ht rs hire, and tw(» or three of iheni are (►f Martin's mind, and thai, makes him fi-rl uncimd'ortabK; till the thing is sc>((U-d ; and as he can't wtll marry while in yut that's as may be." "That's not a very polite sj)cech of yours, Malachi," s.iiil Mrs. Campbell. " l*erha])s it ain't, ma'am, but it's near the mark, neverthe- less. Now I am willing that Martin should have the Straw- berry, because I know that he is a smart h ?nter, and will keep her well ; and sonuhow or another, I feel that if he made her his wife, I should be more comfortaMc; I shall live with them here close by, and Martin wil rve you, and when he has a wife he will not feel inclined change service and go into the woods." " 1 think it is an excellent proposal, Mala«tn, and am much pleased with it, as we now shall have you together," said Mrs. Campbell. "Yes, ma'am, so you will, and then I'l oe always with tiie boy to look after him, and you'll always know where we are, and not be frightened. " " V^ery true, Malachi," said Mr. Campbell ; "I consider it a very good arrangement. We must build you a better lodge than the one that you are in." " No, sir, not a better one, for if you 1* j . e all you want, 165 '.ft 1 J/ i ! f 1 1' i, 1 i j f M THE SKlTI.KkS IN CANADA you can't want more ; il's I)i^' tiioiiy;li, l»iil perhaps not (jiiite near "non^^li. I'm tliinkiii*;' that whi-ii the sliiep-told is finislied, it mi'e inside ol' (he pahsades, and ihen we shall be a sort of £;uanl to the creatures." *' A very excellent idea, Malachi ; well then, as far as I am concerned, Martin has my full consent to marry as soon as he pleases." "And mine, if it is at all necessary," observed Mrs. Campbell. "Hut who is to marry ihem.^" said l^mnia; "they have Ho chaplain at the fort: he went away last year." " Why, miss, they don't want no chaplain ; she is an Indian girl, and he will marry her Indian-fashion." "But what fashion is that, Malachi.''" said Mary. "Why, miss, he'll come to the lodge, and fetch her away to his own house." Alfred burst out into laughter. "That's making short work of it," said he. " Ves, rather too short for my approval," said Mrs. Can»|>- bell. " Malachi, it's very true that the Strawberry is an Indian girl, but we are not Indians, and Martin is not an Indian, neither are you who stand as her father; indeed, I cannot consent to give my sanction to such a marriage." " Well, ma'am, as you please, but it appears to me to be all right. If you go into a country and wish to marry a girl of that country, you marry her according to the rules of that country. N v.v, Martin seeks an Indian s<|uaw, and why not therefore marry her after Indian fashion.''" "You may be right, Malachi, in your argument," said Mrs. Campbell ; " but still you must make allowances for our prejudices We never should think that she was a married woman, if no further ceremony was to take place than what you propose." " Well, ma'am, just as you })iease ; but still, suppose you marry them after your fashion, tiie girl won't understand a word that is said, so what good will it do?" " None to her at present, Malachi ; but recollect, if she is not a ('hristian at present, she may be hereafter ; I have often thought upon that subject, and although I feel it use- less to speak to her just now, yet us soon as she understands 166 TIIK SKITLKHS IN CAN/iDA ut i|iiite i-t'o1(l is L' of I he to llic as I <-ini [)ii as lie L>d Mrs. ey have II IniUan ler away i know what I say lo hrr, 1 hope to |H>rsua(lc her to hi'conio onr. Now, if she should hcconu* a Christian, as 1 hope in (Sod she will, slur Ihcn will peneive that she has not been properly married, and will be anxious: to have the cerenu)ny properly performed over ajLjain ; so why not do it now } " " Well, ma'am, if it pleases you, 1 have no objeetion ; I'm sure Martin will liave none." "It will please me very nmeh, Malaehi," replieil Mrs. Campbell. "And although there is no eha|>lain at tlu* fort," observi-d Mr. Campbell, " yet the Coloiu'l ean marry in his absenee ; a marriage by a conmiandin|r otiieer is (piite le;;:d." "Yes," replied Alfred, "antl so is one by a captain of a man-of-war." "So be it then," replied Malaehi, "the sooner the belter, for the soldiers are very troublesome, and I cannot keej) them out of my lod^e." Martin, who had remained outside the door and overheard all that passed, now came in; the s i>i *t was aj^ain can- vassed, and Martin returned his than^s for the permission given to him. " Well," said Kunna, " 1 little thoujj;ht we shoidd have a wedding in the family so soon; this is (piile an event. Martin, I wish you joy — you will have a very pretty and a very good wife." " 1 think so too, miss," replied Martin. "Where is she.^" said Mary. "She is in the garden, miss," said .Malaehi, "getting eitorm the corenjony. It was a little IVte at the farm. Mrs. Cam|)l)ell and the Miss I'ercivals dressed themselves more than usually smart, .so did all the males of the esta- blishment ; a Ix^tter dinner than usual was prej)ared, as the Colonel and some of the ofHcers were to dine and sjm ml the (lay wilh them. Martin w.as very ^aily .iltired, ami in hi;;h spirits. The Str.iwberry had on a new robe of younji;' deer- skin, and had a llower or two in her lon<^ black hair ; she looked as she was, very pretty and very modest, but not at .all end)arrassed. The marria;j;e ceremony was explained to her by Mal.ichi, and she cheerfully consentetl. Hcfore noon the marriage took place, and an hour or two .nfterward I hey sat down to a well-lurnished table, aiul the whole p-'rty were very merry, j)arlicularly as the Colonel, who was njost un- usually •;ay, insisted upon the Strawberry silting at the table, which she had never done before. She accjuitted herself, however, without embarrassment, and smiled when they laii 1 their part. At sunset, the Colonel and oliicers de- parted hn' the fort, the fnnily remained in the house till ])ast ten o'clock, by which time all the soldiers had gone to bed. Mr. Camj)bcll then read prayers, and ottered up an additional one for the happiness of tlu; newly-married couple, after which they all saluted the Strawberry and wished her good night : she was then led to the lodge by Martin, accompanied by Alfred, Ilem'y, Malachi, Percival, and John, who all went home with them as a guard from any interruption on the part of the disappointed suitors. 168 / d TlIK SKTTLKHS IN CANADA ( olcncl lie and c farm, uisclvcs !jc csla- , as llic ('11(1 llu: ill lii^li !<;• (IftT- :ur ; aUv : ii(»t at lined to ti'i; iioiin ird Uicy rty were lost mi- le table, herself, L*n 1 1 ley of what of wiin; rty ; the r of the awherry IS there (listurl)- eers de- till ])ast to bed. ditioiial , after er f^ood iipanied dl went uii the C ClIAITKI.' XXVII llOW eheerl'iil and <;;iy every thiiijn" l(»oks now," observed l*innna to .M.'iry, a few iiioniiiii;s after the (elebralioii of the iiiari'ia_i;e. ** C)ne could hardly credit lliat in a few nionlliK all lliis animated landscape will be iiothini>- lint om; (b'cary white mass of snow and ice, with no sounds meelini' the ear but the lunvlin^' of the ston>i and the howling of the wolves." "Two very agreeable additions cerlainly," replied Mary, "but what you observe was actually occurring to my own mind at the very moment." 'J'he scene was indeed cheerful and lively. The prairie on one side of the stream waved its high grass to the suiiiiner breeze ; on the other, the cows, horses, and sheep were grazing in every direetioii. The lake in the distance was calm and nnriiHIed ; the birds were singing and chirping merrily in the woods; near the house the bright green of the herbage w.'is studded with the soldiers, dressed in while, employcti in various w.'iys ; the corn waved its yellow ears between the dark stumps of the trees in the cleared land, and the smoke from the chimney of the house mounted straight up in a column to the sky ; the grunting of the pigs and the cackling of the froposed that your prophecy should be fulfilled, my malicious little cousin. lie has proposed my turning miller." Emma clapped her hands and laughed. " How do you mean .''" .said Mary. " Why, he pointed out to me that the mill would cost about two hundred and fifty pounds, and that he thought as my half-pay was unemployed, that it woidd be advisable that I should expend it in erecting the mill, otl'ering me the sum necessary for the purpose. He woidd advance the money, and I might repay him as I received my pay. That, he said, would be a provision for me, and eventually an inde- pendence." " I told you that you would be a miller," replied Ennna, laughing. " Poor Alfred ! " *' Well, what did you reply, Alfred.''" said Mary. " I said yes, I believe, because I did not like to say no." " You did perfectly right, Alfred," replied Mary. " There 170 wr tiiiit', 1 II lliose ihic and st jfo ill, bi'uii^lit Here at ; liu's IT plied t nieari^ II be an 1 Alfred, [iroposcs id lu me .>a a^aiii ed that cuusiii. d cost ii^lit as le that IC Slllll money, lat, he u inde- Enuiia, no. * There y INK sr;r'ii.i:i{s in c anada can he no harm In your ha\iiii; Iht- |>ro|iri-ty, .iiid h.id you rcfnsrd it, it wiMild havi> ^ivi'ii pain to your ialhrr. it' your niotiry is laid ont on the mill, my iiiicio will have more to i-.xp«;nd upon the i'arm ; hut still it dois not i'ollow thai you are to become a milhr all your lite." •* I should hope not," rrplicti Alfred; "as so«»n ;is I'iiiim.i meets with that lon^ bl.ick ;;eiilleman we w« re l,dkiii<; oC, ill make it over to her as a marriage portion." "Thank yon, cousin," replied iMiima, *' I may put you in mind of your promisi' ; but now M;ny and I must -athered in ; a barn had been raised close to the sheep-fold as well as the lod^e for Malachi, Martin, and his wife. I'\»r six weeks all was bustle and hard work, but the weather was fine, and everything was ^ot in safe. The services of the soldiers were now no longer recpiired, and Mr. Campbell having settled his accounts, they returned to the fort. "Who would think," said Henry to Alfred, as he cast his eyes over the buildings, the stacks of corn and hay, and the prairie stocked with cattle, "that we had only been here so short a time 'f " "Many hands make light work," replied Alfred; "we have done with the help from the fort what it would have taken us six years to do with our own resources. My father's money has been well laid out, and will bring in good return." "You have heard of the proposal of Col Jiiel Forster, about the cattle at the fort > " " No ; what is it ? " " He wrote to my father yesterday, saying, as he had only 171 1)1 V] e //, ^). m. ' ox '^"^ y //a IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 If 1^ IIM 1^ 12.2 £«■ I.I u: ■ 40 2.0 1.8 Photographic Sciences Corporation // w. v^' A i/.X ^d ^ 1.25 1.4 III 1.6 === — III — = < 6" ^ 37 V \\ ^^ "% V 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (716) 872-4503 O \ 6^ il; . i l:i n I ^il ^ f If mi ' 'I'llK SJyrTLiaiS IN (AN ADA the means of reeding- the cows necessary for tlic officers of tijc _i;arrisoii, Ifiat lie would sell all Lhc oxen at prescnl at ihe fort at u very ujodt-raLc price;." "But even if we have fodder enonu;!! for them (hn'ing the A\ inter, wliat are we to d > with them ?" '^Sell lliem a<;ain to the fort for the siipj)ly of the troops," replied Ilein'v, "and thereby I'ain i;()od profit. The com- mandant says that it will l)e cheaper to i;overnment in the end than bein<^ compelled to feed them." "That it will, I have no doubt, now that they liave notliinjj^ to i;ive them ; they trusted chiefly to our prairie for hay ; and if they had not had such a ([uantity in store, they could not have fed them last winter." "My father will consent, I know; indeed he would be very foolish not to do so, for most of them will be killed when the winter sets in, ant' will only cost us the grazing." ''We are fortunate in finding such friends as we have done," replied Alfred. "y\ll this assistance would not have been given to perhaj)S any other settlers." "No, certainly not; but you see, Alfred, wc are indebted to your inHuence Avith C'aj)tain Lumlcy for all these advan- tages, at least my father and mother say so, and I agree with them. Captain Liimley's influence with the (Jovernor has created all this interest about us." " 1 think we must allow that the peculiar position of the family has done much toward it. It is not often that they meet with settlers of refined habits and cultivated minds, and there naturally must be a feeling toward a family of such a description in all generous minds." " Very true, Alfred," replied Henry ; " but there is our mother waiting for us to go in to dinner." " Yes ; and the Strawberry by her side. What a nice little creature she is !" " Yes ; and how quickly she is becoming useful. She has ahnost given up her Indian customs, and is settling down (piietly into English habits. Martin appears very fond of her." " And so he ought to be," replied Henry ; " a wife with a smile always upon her lips is a treasure. Come, let us go in. 172 \i t.^^t«^ W^ *t*,rflT«M*-i-4M*».W«e»f»ii.M ,*^~*'t - otIiccTS of fill at llie luring the c. troops," The coni- L'ut in the ve iiotliing ' h.'iy ; and ' could not he would m will be ost us the s we have d not have e indebted ese adv.ni- agrce with vernor has tion of the that they ted nunds, i family of lere is our hat a nice She has ling down very fond wife with a me, let us 1 THE SETTLERS I\ CAXADA Another fortnight passed away, when an incident occin'red which created son)e uneasiness. Mr. ('anij)bell was busy with Martin and Alfred clearing out the store-room and arranging the stores. Many of the cases and packages iiad been opened to be examined and aired, and they were busily employed, when, turning round, Mr. Campbell, to his great surprise, beheld an Indian by his side, who was earnestly contemplating the various j)aekages of blaidicts, \c., and cases of powder, shot, and other articles, which were opened around him. "Why, who is this.''" exclaimed Mr. Campbell, starting. Martin and Alfred, who had their backs to him at the time of Mr. Campbell's exclamation, turned round and beheld the Indian. lie was an elderly man, very tall and nmscular, dressed in leggings and deerskin coat, a war-eagle's feather, fixed by a fillet, on his head, and a profusion of c()j)per and brass medals, juid trinkets round his neck. 1 1 is face was not painted, with the exception of two black circles round his eyes. His head was shaved, and one long scdp-lock hung behind him. He had a tomahawk and a knife in his belt, and a riHe upon his arm. Martin advanced to the Indian and looked earnestly at him. "I know his tribe," said Martin; "but not his name; but he is a chief and a warrior." Martin then spoke to him in the Indi.ui tongue. The Indian merely gave an "ugh" in reply. " He does not choose to give his name," observed Martin ; "and, therefore, he is here for no good. Mr. Alfred, just fetch Malachi; he will know him, I dare say." Alfred went to the house for Malachi ; in the meantime the Indian remained motionless, with his eyes fixed upon dilferent articles exposed to view. " It's strange," observed Martin, " how he could have come here ; but, to be sure^ neither Malachi nor I have been out lately." Just as he had finished his remark, Alfred returned with Malachi. Malachi looked at the Indian and spoke to him. The Indian now replied in the Indian language. "1 knew him, sir," said Malachi, "the moment I saw his back. He's after no good, and it's a thousand pities that he 17.3 1 * \i I' i> \ , ) 1 t i I r^' ■ r if % I i I '; S \ i\\ , ! ! .1 TME SETTLERS IN CANADA has como just now and seen all this," eoutinued Malachi ; "it's a strong tenij)tation." "Why, who is he?" said Mr. Campbell. " The Angry Snake, sir," replied Malachi. " I had no idea that he would be in these parts before the meeting of the Indian council, which takes place in another n)onth, and then I meant to have been on the look-out for him." " But what have we to fear from him f " "Well, that's to be proved; br.c this I can say, that he has his eyes upon what ap])ears to him of more value than all the gold in tbe universe; and he's anything but honest." " Hut we have nothing to fear from one man," observed Alfred. "His party ain't far off, sir," said Malachi. "He has some followers, although not many, and those who follow him are as bad as himself We must be on the watch." Malachi now addressed the Indian for some time ; the only reply was an " ugh." " I have told him that all the powder and ball that he sees are for our rifles, which are more than are possessed by his whole tribe. Not that it does much good, but at all events it's just as well to let him know that we shall be well pre- ])ared. The crittur's quite amazed at so much annnunition ; that's a fact It's a pity he ever saw it." "Shall we give him some.''" said Mr. Campbell. " No, no, sir ; he would only make use of it to try to get the rest ; however, I believe that he is the only one of his party who has a rifle. The best thing is to close the doors, and then he will go/' They did as Malachi requested, and the Indian, after waiting a short time, turned round on his heel, and walked away. "He is a regular devil, that Angry Snake/' observed Malachi, as he watched him departing ; " but never mind, I'll be a match for him. I wish he'd never seen all thai ammuni- tion, nevertheless." "At .ill events, we had better not say a word in the house about his making his appearance," said Mr. Campbell. " It will only alarm the women, and do no good." "That's true, sir. I'll only tell the Strawberry," said Martin ; " she's an Indian, and it will put her on the look- out." 174 Mal.achi ; ■ I bad no meeting of nontli, and ). ly, that lie uc than all onest." ," observed " lie has follow him time ; the hat he sees ssed by his it all events le well pre- [vnniniition ; try to j;et one of his the doors, fter waiting [1 away. " observed IV mind, 1*11 ix\, aramuni- the house )bell. " It |erry," said the look- TME SETTLERS IN CANADA "That will be as well, but caution her not to mention it to Mrs. Campbell or the girls, Martin." " Never fear, sir," replied Malaehi ; " I'll watch his motions, nevertheless ; to-morrow I'll be in the woods and on his trail. I'm glad that he saw me here, for he fears me ; I know that." It so happened that the Indian was not seen by Mrs. Campbell or any of them in the house, either npon his arrival or departure ; and when Mr. Campbell and the others returned to the house, they found that no one there ha y ^nced, dur- lere. One who hap- when they observeil that the ha/e was much thicker llian usual. Tlicy had been expecling tiie e(|uino(tial gales, which were very late this year, and Mary observed that she foresaw they were coming on, as the sky wore every appearance of wind ; yet still there was but a light air, and hardly perceptible at the time. In a moment after they had gone out, and were taking up their pails, Strawberry came to them from her own lodge, and they pointed to the gloom and haze in the air. She turned round, as if to catch the wind, and snuffed for a little while ; at last she said, " (ire.at fire in the woods." Alfred and the others soon joined them, and having been rallied by Emma at their being so late, they also observed the unusual appearance of the sky. Martin corroborated the assertion of the Strawberry, that there was fire in the woods. Malachi and John had not returned that night froni a hunting ex- pedition, but shortly after daylight they made their appear- ance ; they had seen the fire in the distance, and said that it was to northward and eastward, and extended many miles ; that they had been induced to leave the chase and come home in consequence. During the remainder of the day, there was little or no wind, but the gloom and smell of fire increased rapidly. At night the breeze sprang up and soon increased to a gale from the north-east, the direction in which the fire had been seen. Malachi and Martin were up several times in the night, for they knew that if the wind continued in that quarter, without any rain, there would be danger; still the fire was at a great distance, but in the morning the wind blew almost a hurricane, and before twelve o'clock on the next day, the smoke was borne down upon them, and carried away in masses over the lake. " Do you think there is any danger, Martin, from this fire .''" said Alfred. "Why, sir, that depends upon circumstances; if the wind were to blow from the cjuarter which it now does, as hard as it does, for another twenty-four hours, we shoidd have the fire right down upon us." " But still we have so nmch clear Land between the forest and us, that I should think the house would be safe." " I don't know that, sir. You have never seen the woods afire for mile^ as I have ; if you had, you would know what it was. We have two chances : one is, that we may have 177 M \i \ t (i I I I 1 5 m ■ 'I ■ I : TIIK SK'J TMUIS IN CANADA torrents of rain come down with the gale, and the oilier is, that llie wind may shift a point or two, wliich would be the best chance for us of the two." Hut the wind did not shift, and the rain did not descend, and before the evening set in, the fire was within two miles of them, and (hstant roaring rent the air ; the lieat and smoke became more oj)pressive, and the party were under great alarm. As the sun set the wind became even more violent, and now the Hames were distinctly to be seen, and the whole air was filled with myriads of sparks. The fire bore down upon them with resistless fury, and soon the atmosphere was so oppressive, that they could scarcely breathe ; the cattle galloped down to the lake, their tails in the air, t'lnd lowing with fear. There they remained^ kuee-deep in the water, and huddled together. '^VVeli, Malachi," said Mr. Campbell, " this is very awful. What shall we do?" "Trust in God, sir; we can ilo nothing else," replied Malachi. The flames were now but a short distance from the cilji^e of the forest ; they threw themselves up into the air in high cohmnis ; then, borne down by the wind, burst through the boughs of the forest, scorching here and there on the way the trunks of the large trees ; while such a torrent of sparks and ignited cinders was poured down upon the prairie, that, added to the suffocating masses of smoke, it was impossible to remain there any longer. " You must all go down to the punt, and get on board," said Malachi. "There's not a moment for delay; you will be smothered if you remain here. Mr. Alfred, do you and Martin pull out as far into the lake as is necessary for you to be clear of the smoke and able to breathe. Quick, there is no time to be lost, for the gale is rising faster than before." There was, indeed, no time to be lost. Mr. Campbell took his wife by the arm ; Henry led the girls, for the smoke was so thick that they could not see the way. Percival and Strawberry followed. Alfred and Martin had already gone down to get the boat ready. In a few minutes they were in the boat, and pushed off from the shore. The boat was I ■ Tin-: SKTTLRUS IN CANADA other is, d be the descend, Avo miles lieat and re under )lent, and whole air own upon re was so he cattle id lowinj5 :he water, ery aw ful. /' replied he cdt!;c of hi«h n* ui irough the le way the sparks and hat, added e to remain on board," ^ ; you will do you and for you to nick, there faster than n jpbell took smoke was ercival and ready gone ley were in boat was crowded, but, being Hat-bottonicd, she bore the load Avell. 'I lay pulled out about half a mile into the lake, l)efore they found themselves in a less oppressive atmosphere. Not a word was spoken until Martin and Alfred had stopped rowing. "And old Malachi and John, where are ihey ? " said Mrs. Canipbcll, who, now that they were clear of the smoke, discovered that these were not in the boat. "Oh, never fear theni, ma'am," replied Martin, " Malachi stayed behind to see if he could be of use. He knows how to take care of himself, and of .lohn too." "This is an awful visitation," said Mrs. Campbell, after a pause. " Look, the whole wood is now on fire, close down to the clearing. The house nuist be burned, and we shall save nothing." " It is the will of (lod, my dear wife ; and if we are to be deprived of what little wealth we have, we nmsl not min'nnir, but submit with resignation. Let us thank Heaven that our lives are preserved." Another pause ensuetl ; at last the silence was broken by jMHma. "There is the cow-house on (ire — 1 see the Hames bmsling from the roof." Mrs. Cam[)bell, whose hand was on that of her Imsband, s(pieezed it in silence. It was the cojnmenccment of tin; tiestruction of their whole property — all their labours and ellbrts had been thrown away. The winter was coming on, and they would be houseless — what would become of them ! All this passed in her mind, but she did not speak. At this moment the flames of the fire rose up straight to the sky. Martin perceived it, and jun)ped up on his feet. "There is a lull in the wind," said Alfred. "Yes," replied Martin, and continued holding up his hand, " I felt a drop of rain. Yes, it's coming ; another quarter t)f an hour and we may be safe." Martin was correct in his observation ; the wind had lulled for a moment, and he had felt the drops of rain. This pause contitmed for about three or four minutes, during which the cow-house burned furiously, but the ashes and sparks were no longer hurled down on the prairie ; then suddenly the wind shifted to the south-east, with such torrents of rain as 179 d ^1 i^. i ' n ■^4 1*1 M PI n *1 1 1 i Tllli SETilJ'.US IN CANADA almost to blind tliein. So violent was the f^usl, that even tile punt careened to it ; but Allied pulled its heatl loinid smartly, and put it bel'orc the wiiui. The ^ale was now e(|ually strong- (Voui the (juarter to which it had chan^etl ; the lake became a<;itated .'uid covered with white foam, and before the punt reached the shore a^ain, which it did in a few nn'nutes, the water washed over its two sides, and they were in danger of swamping, Alfred directed them all to sit still, and raisinjr the blades of the oars up into the air, the punt was dashed furiously through the wuvcs^ till it grounded on the beach. [Martin and Alfred jumped out into the water and hauled the pmit further before they disend)arked ; the rain still poured et to bed." ** Is all (piite safe, do you think, Malachi.'*" said Mr. Campbell. " Ves, sir, no fe.ir now ; the lire hasn't pas.sed the stream, and even if it had, this rain would put it out, for we only have the begiiniini^ of it; but it was a near thini;, that's sartin." The Jiarly walked back to the house, anil as soon as they had entt^red, Mr. Campbell kneeled ilown and thanked Heaven for their miraculous preservation. All joined heartily in the prayer, and, after they had waited up a few nn'nutes, by which time they were satisfied that the llames were fast extinjruisliing and they hatl nothini^ more to fear, they took off their wet clothes, and retired to bed. The next morning they rose early, for all were anxious to ascertain the mischief which had been occasionetl by the fire. The cow-house, on the opposite side of the stream, was the only part of the premises which had severely suffered ; the walls were standing, but the roof was burned. On the side of the stream where the house stood, the rails and many portions of the buildings were actually charred, and, had it not been for the providential change of the wind and the fall- ing of the rain, must in a few minutes have been destroyed. 180 i Lli.il even ;;ul IDUllll was iu»w ii^eil ; tlu; loam, and t (lid i«i ii and they leni all lo he air, the ; irrountled ind hauled ; rain still le skin ; as hi, " it was t the cow- oii all had " said Mr. ihe stream, or we only i liT, that's as soon as id thanked led heartily w minutes, were fast , they took anxious to by the fire, im, was the ittered; the 3n the side and many and, had it ,nd the fall- destroyed. THK SETTLERS IN CANADA The prairie was covered with cinders, and the ^rass was hurncd and withered. The forest on the other side of the stream, to a great extent, was burned down ; sr;nri<^ also, we shall have (ine herbage there next spring." "We have to thank I leaven for its merry," said Mr. Camj)- bell ; "at one time yest<'rday evening I thought we were about to be rendered destitute indeed, but it has pleased (lod that it should be otherwise." "Yes, sir," observed Malachi ; " what threatened your ruin has turned out to your advantage. Next year you will see everything green and fresh as before ; and, as Martin says, you have to thank the fire for clearing away more land for you than a whole rcginient of soldiers could have done in two or three years." "liut we must work h.ard and get in the corn next spring, for otlierwise the brushwood will grow up so fast, as to be- conie a forest again in a few years." "I never thought of inquiring," said Mary, "how it was that the forest could have taken fire." 'hy, miss," replied everythnig is as dry as tind( er, nothing is more easy Tl le Indians light their fire, and do not take the trouble to put it 181 Ml #1 * i -< 11! if I ) I \h S t ^i C TIIR SETTLERS IN CANADA out, and that is ^cnorally the cause of it ; but then it rt'(juir' wind to lielp it." The flicers of the fort, as they did not expect to meet a^ain till the winter was over. Ibivinir experienct^d one winter, they were more fully prepared for the second ; and as Malachi, the Strawberry, and John were now reoidar inmates of the house, for they did not keej) a separate table, there was a greater feeling of security, and 182 ; rc'(jmr' s imprcs- r Siind.'iy, lliHiikt'iil- )y AltVtMl tlioiit any \c fort to •ers were L' (lain.'iijc iiDiiiy had ic fort to ires wore ribcd the the depth nsidc the H;cp were were put liad beeji :;very prc- there had come on. and then, ere killed )rses on a fidfd^ and s they did IlaviiifT :'pared for Tohn were f)t keep a m-ity, and TIIR SKT'I'I.KIIS IN CANADA the monotony and (h'eariness were; not so jjreat .is in the pie- oe(hn^ winter: moreover, everything;- was now in its place, and they had more to attend to, - two eireinnstanccs which greatly contributed to rtrlieve llw cnmii .arising from continual confinement. The hunlinu^ parlies went out as usual ; only Ilenry, and occasi(»naIly AIfre » (• ! Si 11- I I k THE SETTLERS IN CANADA is more blood this way as we go on. Ha ! " continued Malachi, as he j)assed by a mound of snow, " here's the wolf- skin he was covered up with ; ihen he is dead or thereabouts, and they have carried him off, for he never would have parted with his skin, if lie had had his senses about him." "Yes," observed Martin, "his wound was mortal, that's certain," They pursued the track till they arrived at the forest, and then, satisdcd by the marks on the snow that the woinided man had been carried away, they returned to the house, when they found tiie rest of the family dressed and in the kitchen. Alfred showed tliem the skin of the wolf, and informed them of what they had discovered. " I am <^rieved tliat blood has been shed," observed Mrs. Campbell ; " I wish it had not happened. I have heard that the Indians never f(»r<>;ive on such occasions." " Why, ma'am, they are very revenf^eful, that's certain, but still they won't like to risk too much. This has been a lesson to them. I only wish it had been the Angry Snake himself who was settled, as then we should have no more trouble or anxiety about them." " Perhaps it may be," said Alfred. "No, sir, that's not likely; it's one of his young men; I know the Iiuli.iu customs well." r 'vS some time before the alarm occasioned by this event sub i(k . • iv the mind of Mrs. Cam})bell and her nieces ; Mr. Can ' d also thought much about it, and betrayed occasional anxiety. Tlie parties went out hunting as before, but those at home now felt anxious till their return from the chase. Time, however, and not hearing anything more of the Indians, gradually revived their courage, and before the winter was half over they thought little about it. Indeed, it had been ascertained by Malachi from another band of Indiajis which he fell in with near a small lake where they were trapping beaver, that the Angry Snake was not in that put of the country, but had gone with his band to the west- ward at the commencement of the new year. This satisfied them that the enemy had left innnediately after the attempt which he had made to reconnoiire the premises. The hunting parties, therefore, as we said, contimied as before ; indeed, they were necessary for the suj)])ly of so 18(i V-. continued e's the wolf- thereabouts, have parted ortal, that's 2 forest, and he wounded house, when the kitchen, brmcd thcin served Mrs. c heard tliat at's certain, 5 has been a LU^^ry Snake vo no more ini;; men ; I y this event nieces ; Mr. d occasional c, but those the chase, ore of the before the t. Indeed, cr band of where they not in that ;o the west- lis satisfied he attempt >n tinned as pply of so THE SETTLERS IN CANADA many mouths. Percival, who had grown very much since his residence in Canada, was very anxious to be permitted to join them, which he never had been during the former Avinter. This was very natural. He saw 1 ..^ younger brother go out almost daily, and seldom return without having been success- ful ; indeed, John was, next to Malachi, the best shot of the party. It was, therefore, very annoying to Percival that ho should always be detained at home doing all the drudgcrj' of the house, such as feeding the pigs, cleaning knives, and other menial work, while his yoimgcr brother was doing the duty of a man. To Percival's repealed entreaties, objections were constantly raised by his mother : they could not sj)aro him, he was not accustomed to walk in snow-shoes. Mr, Campbell observed that Percival became dissatisfied and uidiappy, and Alfred took his part and pleaded for him. Alfred observed very truly, that the Strawberry could occa- sionally do Percival's work, and that if it could be avoided, he should not be cooped \ip at home in the way that he was ; and, Mr. Campbell agreeing with Alfred, Mrs. Campbell very reluctantly gave her consent to his occasionally going out. "Why, aunt, have you such an objeetion to Percival going out with the hunters.^" said Mary. " It must be very trying to him to be always detained at home." " I feel the truth of what you say, my dear Mary," said Mrs. Cani})bell, "and I assure you it is not out of seliishness, or because we shall have more work to do, that I wish him to remain with us; but I have an instinctive dread that some accident will happen to him, which I cannot overcome, and there is no arguing with a mother's fears and a mother's 1>> ove. "You were quite as uneasy, my dear aunt, when John first went out ; you were contimially in alarm about him, but now you are perfectly at ease," re[)lied Kmma. "Very true," said Mrs. Campbell; "it is, perhaps, a weak- ness on my part which I ought to get over; but wc are all liable to such feelings. I trust in Clod there is no real cause for a])prehension, atul that my reluctance is a mere weakness and folly. But I see the j)oor boy has long pined at being kept at home ; for nothiiig is more irksome to a high-coiiraged and spirited boy as he is. I have, therefore, given my consent, because I thiiik i!: is my dntv; still the feeling 187 i / ;| If Ml I. IN ' i' *i THE SETTLERS IN CANADA remains, so let us say no n)ore about it, my dear girls, for the subject is painful to me." " My clear aunt, did you not say that you Mould talk to Strawberry on the subject of religion, and try if you could not persuade her to become a Christian ? She is very serious at prayers, I observe ; and appears, now that she understands English, to be very attentive to what is said." " Yes, my dear Emma, it is my intention so to do very soon, but I do not like to be in too great a hurry. A mere conforming to the usages of our religi(m Avould be of little avail, and I fear that too many of our good missionaries, in their anxiety to m.Jie converts, do not sufliciently consider this point. Religion must proceed from conviction, and be seated in the heart ; the heart, indeed, must be changed, not mere outward forms attended to." "What is the religion of the Indians, my dear aunt?" said Mary. "One which makes conversion the more difficult. It is in many respects so near what is right, that Indians do not easily perceive the necessity of change. They believe in one (lod, the fountain of all good ; they believe in a future state and in future rewards and punishments. You perceive they have the same foundation as we have, although they know not Christ, and, having very incomplete notions of duty, have a very insiiflieient sense of their nianifold trans- gressions and offences in Ciod's sight, and eonsecpiently have no idea of the necessity of a metliator. Now it is, perhaps, easier to convince those who are entirely wrong, such as worship idols and false gods, than those who approach so nearly to the truth. But I have had many hours of reflec- tion upon the proper course to pin'sue, and I do intend to have sr)me conversati<»n with her on the subject in a very short time. I have delayed because I consider it absolutely necessary that she should be perfectly aware of what I say, before 1 try to alter her belief. Now the Indian language, althougl) quite suflieient for Indian wants, is poor, and has not the same copiousness as ours, because they (lo not require the words to explain what we term abstract ideas. It is, therefore, impossible to explain the mysteries of our holy religion to one who does not well understand our language. I think, however, that the Strawberry now begins to com- 188 THE SETTLERS IN CANADA ar girls, for mid talk to f you could /ery seriou« mderstands to do very y. A mere be of little lionarics, in Lly eousider ion, and be »e chan«:fed, ear aunt ? " It. It is in ians do not believe in in a future ou [)erceive loui^li they notions of fold trans- ently have s, perhaps, (T, such as )proach so s of reflcc- intend to in a very absolutely Lvhat I say, lanjjfUMiye, or, and has not re(]nire cas. It is, )f our holy lan^uacje. IS to com- prehend sulHciently for me to make the first attempt. I say first attempt, because I have no idea of nuikin^ a convert in a week, or a month, or even in six months. All I can do is to exert my best abilities, and then trust to God, who, in His own good time, will enlighten her mind to receive His truth." The next day the hunting party went out, and I'ercival, to his great delight, was permitted to accompany it. As they had a long way to go, for they had selected the hunting ground, they set off early in the morning, before daylight, Mr. Campbell having particularly requested that they would not return home lute. CHAPTEK XXX JL HE party had proceetled many miles before they arrivcil at the spot where Malachi thought that th^'y would fall in with some venison, which was the principal game that they sought. It was not till near ten o'clock in the morning that they stood on the ground which had been selected for the sport. It was an ojjcn part of the forest, and the snow lay in large drifts, but here and there on the hill- sides the grass was nearly bare, aiul the deer were able, by scraping with their feet, to obtain some food. They were all pretty well close together when they arrived. IVrcival and Henry were about a (piarter of a mile behind, for Percival was not used to the snow-shoes, and did not get on so well as the others. Malachi and the rest with him halted, that Henry and Percival might come up Avith them, and then, after they had recovered tlieir breath a little, he said — " Now, you see there's a fine lot of deer here, Master Percival, but as you know nothing about woodcraft, and may put us all out, observe what I say to you. The animals are not only cute of hearing and seeing, but they are more cute of smell, and they can scent a man a mile off if the wind blows down to them ; so you see it would be useless to attempt to get near to them if we do not get to the lee side of them without noise and without being seen. Now, the wind has been from the eastward, and as we are to the southward, we must get round by the woods to the westward, 189 1^ 1 I'l u li I ! ff!' ^r-if ^^ ^- r THE SETTLEHS IN CANADA ?)cfore we ^o upon the open ground, and then, Master Percival, you nuist do as we do, and keep brhind, to watcli our motions. If we come to a swell in the land, you nmst not run up, or even walk u}), .as you might show yourself; the deer might be on the other side, within twenty yards of you ; but you nmst hide yourself, as you will see that Ave shall (h», and when we have found them, I will put you in a place where you shall have ycjr shot as well as we. Do you understand. Master Percival.''" " Yes, I do, and I shall stop behind, and do as you tell me." " Well then, now, we will go back into the thick of the forest till we go to the leewartl, and then we shall see whether you will make a hunter or not." The whole |)arty did as Malachi directed, and for more than an hour they walked through the wood, among the thickest of the trees, that they might not be seen by ihc animals. At last they ar''ived at the sj)ot which Malachi desired, and then they changed their course eastward toward the more o[)en ground, where they expected to find the deer. As they entered Jipon the open ground, they moved forward erouehetl t«) the ground, Malachi and Martin in the advance. When in the hollows, they all collected together, blit on ascending a swell of the land, it was either Malachi or Martin who first crept up, and, looking over the sunnnit, gave notice to the others to come forward. This was continually repe.ited for three or four miles, when Martin having raised his head just above a swell, made a signal to those who were below that the deer were in sight. After a moment or two recon- noitring, he went down and informed them that there were twelve or thirteen head of deer scra]>ing up the snow about one hundred yards aheatl of them upon another swell of the land ; but that they appeared to be alarnied and anxious, as if tl.ey had an idea of danger being near. Malachi then again crawled up to make his observations, and retin-ned. " It is sartin," said he, " that they are Hurried about some- thing ; they appear just as if they had been hunted, and yet that is not likely. We must wait and let them settle a little, and find out whether any other parties have been hunting them." 190 •r in, Master 1, to watch , you must V yourself; ty yards of ic that we it you in a i. Do you do as you lick of tlie i shall see d for more amontj; tht eeii by the ch Malachi /ard toward id the deer, ved forward he advance, icr, but on li or Martin itave notice lly repeated ed his head were below two recon- there were snow about swell of the anxious, as ►bst!rvations, about soiiie- ted, and yet ttle a little, een hunting TIIK SETTLRUS IN CANADA They waited about ten minutes, till tin; animals appeared more settled, and then, by alterinj^ their position behind the swell, gained about twenty-live yards of distance. Malachi told each party which animal to aim at, and they fired nearly simultaneously. Three of the beasts fell, two others were wounded, the rest of the herd bounded off like the wind. Tliev all rose from behind the swell, and ran forward to their prey. Alfred had fired at a fine buck which stood apart from the rest, and somewhat further off; it was evident that the animal was badly wounded, and Alfred had marked the thicket into which it had floundered ; but the other deer which was wounded was evidently slightly hurt, and tiure was little chance of obtaining it, as it bounded away after the rest of the herd. They all ran uji to where the animals lay dead, and as soon as they had reloaded their rifles, Alfred and Martin went on the track of the one that was badly wounded. They had forced their way through the thicket for some fifty yards, guided by the track of the animal, when they started back at the loud growl of some bi.'ist. AlfVi;d, who was in advance, perceived that a ])uma (catamount, or painter, as it 's usually termed) had taken possession of the deer, and wa, lying over the carcass. lie levelled his rifle and fired; the beast, although badly wounded, ininudiatily sprang at him and seized him by the slioultk r. Alfred was sinking under the animal's weight and from the pain he was suflfering, when Martin came to his rescue, and put his rifle ball through the head of the beast, w hich fell chad. "Are you much hurt, sir.?" said Martin. "No, not much," replied Alfred; "at least I think not, but my shoulder is badly torn, and I bleed freely." Malachi and the others now came up, and perceivetl what had taken place. Alfred had sunk down and was sitting on the ground by the side of the dead animals. "A painter!" exclaimed Malachi; "well, I didn't think we should see one so far west. Are you hurt, Mr. Alfred r" "Yes, a little," rephed Alfred faintly. Malachi and Martin, without faying another word, stripped off Alfred's "hunting coat, and then discovered that he had received a very bad wound in the shoulder from the teeth of the beast, and that his side was also torn by the animal's claws. 191 u ^ i - If I ! m it I it: ' 1," THE SETTLERS IN CANADA "Jolin, nm tor ^oinc water," said Mulachi ; " yon there, and hastening in at the door, he gave his message in ])resence of Mrs. Campbell and his cousins, who were in a state of great distress at the intelligence. Mr. Campbell went to his room for the spirits, and as soon as he brought it out Emma seized her bonnet, and said that she would accompany .John. Mr. and Mrs. Cam])bell had no time to raise any objection, if they were inclined, for Emma was out of the door in a moment, with John at her heels. But Emma quite forgot that she liad no snow-shoes, and before she had gone hall' the distance she found herself as nuich fatigued as if she had walked miles; and she sank deeper and deeper in the snow every step that she advanced. At last they arrived, and found the party : Alfred was lying insensible on the snow, and the others making a litter of branches that they might carry him to the house. A little brandy poured down his throat l)roi;ght Alfred to his senses ; and as he opened his eyes, he perceived lunma hanging over him. "Dear Emma, how kind of you," said he, attempting to rise. "Do not move, Alfred; they will soon have the litter ready, and then you will be carried to the house. It is not far off." " I am strong again now, Emma," replied Alfred. " But you must not remain here in the cold. See, the snow is falling again." " 1 must remain now till they are ready to carrv you, Alfred, for I d.are not go back by myself." By this time the litter was j^repared, and Alfred placed on it. Malachi, Henry, Martin, and .lohn took it up. ] ir.i N ' i >; / .' • I I i £■■ I' TIIK Sr/ITLKHS IN CANADA " Where is l*ercival ? " s.'ild Eniiim. "He's behiiul a little \ ly," replied John. "The snow- shoes hurt iiiiiij and he could not walk so fast, lie will be here in a minute." They carried Alfred to tiic house, where Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and Mary were waiting* at the door in ^reat anxiety ; poor JMnma was (juite knocked up by the time tliat they arrived, and went into her own room. Alfred was laid on his bed, and his fatlier then examined his wounds, which he considered very dangerous, from the; fijreat laceration of the Hesli. Mr. Camj)bell dressed theni, and then they U^ft Alfred to the repose whicli he so mudi required. The state of Alfred so occupied their minds and their attention, that nothing- and nobody else was thou<^j)t of for the first liour. Emma, too, had been taken very ill soon after she came in, and recjuircd the attention of Mrs. Campbell and Mary. It was not until they were about to sit down to supper that Mr. Campbell said, "Why, where's I'ercival .'' " " Percival ! Is lie not here.''" was the question anxiously uttered by all the party who had been hunting. " Percival not here ! " exclaimed Mrs. Campbell, starting up. " Where — -where is my child .'* " "He was just behind u' " said John; "he sat down to alter his snow-shoes ; the ties hin-t him." Malachi and Martin ran out of doors in consternation ; they knew the dan<5er, for the snow was now fallinjr in such heavy flakes that it was impossible to see or direct their steps two yards in any direction. "The boy will be lost for s.irtin," said Malachi to Martin; "if he has remained behind till this fall of snow, he never will find his way, but wander about till he perishes." " Yes," said Martin, " he has but a poor chance, that is the truth ; I would have given my right arm this had not happened." " Misfortune never comes single," replied Malachi ; " what can we do? Madam Campbell will be beside herself, for she loves that boy beyond all measure." " It's useless our going out," observed Martin ; "'we should never find him, and only lose ourselves; but still we had better go l),irk, and s.iy that we will try. At ail events we can lf)4 The snow- He will be •. and Mrs. cut anxiety ; e that they n examined IS, from tlu^ •essed them, he so nmch ,r minds and was thought taken very attention of y were about said, "Why, ;ion anxiously l)bell, starting sat down to onsternation ; dling in sueh ect their steps ;hi to Martin ; low, he never shes." hance, that is this had not alachi ; " what "lerself, for she 11 ; " wc should It still we had |l events we can TMK SI'/m.KIlS IN CANADA fro to the edge of the forest, and lialloo every miiudc or so' if the boy is still on his legs, it will guide him to us." "Yes," replied Malachi, "and we may light a pine torch; it might be of some use. Well, then, let's go in and tell them that we are going in search of the boy ; as long as madam knows that we are set liing him she will not lose hope, and hope will keep uj) her spirits for the time, till she is better prepared for her loss." Tiiere was nmch good sense and knowledge of the innnan lieart in the observation of Malachi, who, although he was aware that all search would be useless, could n(»t resolve to destroy at once all hope in the njind of the afllictcd aiul anxious mother. 'I'hey went in, and found Mrs. Camj)bell weeping bitterly, supported by her Iiusband and Mary. They stated that they were going to search for the boy, and bring him home if they could, and, taking three or four pine torches, one of whicli they lighted, they set off for the edge of the forest, where they remained for two hoiu's with the light, shouting at intervals ; but the snow fell so fast, and the cold was so intense, for the wind blew fresh from the northward, that they could remain no longer. 'J'hey did not, howev(!r, return to tiie liouse, but went to their own lodge to recover them- selves, and remained there till daylight. They then went out cigain ; the snowstorm had ceased, and the morning was clear and bright ; they went back into the forest (on the road by which they had come home) for three or four miles, but the snow had now fallen and covered all the tracks whicli they had made the day before, and was in many places several feet deej). They jiroceeded to where Percival was last seen by John, who had described the spot very exactly ; tiiey looked everywhere about, made circuits round and round, in hopes of perceiving the muzzle of his rifle peeping out above the snow, but there was nothing to be discovered, and after a search of lour or five hours, they re- turiicd to the house. Tiiey found Mr. Cauipbell and Ilenry in the kitchen, for Mrs. Campbell was in such a state of anxiety and distress, that she was in her room atl ended by Mary. Mr. Cam})bell perceived by their countenances that U they brought no satisfactory tidings. Malachi shook his -4 1 head mourn fully, an( 1 sat dowj). 195 I iH i 't 1 ■I f i I TMK SKTTI,F,nS I\ CANADA "Do ynii tliiiik lli.-il my poor boy is lost, Malachi?" said Mr. Campbell. " Hu is, 1 ftar, sir; lie must liavt' sat down to rest him- self, and has been overpowered and fallen asleep. He has been btn'ied in the snow, and he will not wake till the day of resurreetion." Mr. Campbell covered his face with ids hands, and after a time exclaimed, ** Ilis poor moMier ! " After a few minntes, he rose and went into Mrs. Cam|)beirs roon). "What of my child — my dear, dear Pereival .'' " exclaimed Mrs. Campbell. "The Lord jy;avc, and the Lord hath taken away," replied Mr. Campbell ; "yonr child is happy." Mrs. Campbell wept bitterly ; and having thus ^iven vent to the feelings of nature, she became gradually niore calm ajid resi^jfned ; her habitually devout spirit sought and fomid relief in the Ood of all comfort. II > i ''*! p .1 CHAPTER XXXI rn L HUS in one short day was the family of Mr. Campbell changed from a house of joy to one of mourning. And true was the remark of Malachi, that misfortunes seldom come single, for now they had another cause of anxiety. Emma, by her imprudent exposure to the intense chill of the night air and the wetting of her feet, was first taken with a violent cold, which was followed by a fever, which became more alarming every day. Thus, in addition to the loss of one of their children, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were threatened with being deprived of two more ; for their nieces were regarded as such, and Alfred was in a very precarious state. 'J'he wounds had assmned such an angry appearance, that Mr. Campbell was fearful of mortification. This accunndated distress had, however, one good effect njion them. The danger of losing Ennna and Alfred so occupied their minds and their attention, that they had not time to bewail the loss of I'ereiv.'d ; and even Mrs. Campbell, in her ])raycrs, was en.'ibled to resign herself to the Almighty's will in hi?" said rest him- llc 1ms II the clay lul after a raiupbeir!^ exclaimed y," replied ^iveii vent more calm ; and found r. Campbell And true ildom come ty. Emma, )f the nij^ht ith a violent scame more iss of one of atened with :rc ref?arded state. The ■e, that Mr. accumulated hem. Tlic their minds bewail the icr ])raycrs, ity's will in TIIK SKIILKIIS IN ( ANADA t.'ilxiii^; away lu r cliild, if it would liiil please Mini lo spare the two others who w»r»" aHliet<'«l. Loni;- and tedious wcrcr the hotn's, the days, and the wceUs that passed away before: either of them could be considered in a state ol* eonval- cscencc ; but w In ii In r prayi rs wtre heard, and, as the winter closed, Iheir rec»>vt;ry was no lonf;ved into the silting roont, haberries, and very good ernes too, are tliev^ not, Mr. l^jmmcrson ?" said iMnma. " Yes, miss, most excellent," replied he ; " but you are aware that, whenever you cut down trees here, and do not hoe the ground to sow it, raspberry bushes grow up immediately." " Indeed, I Avas not aware of it." "Such is the case, nevertheless. After the ras[)berries, the seedling hardwood trees spring uj), and, as Mr. Canij)bell says, thev soon grow into a forest a<>ain." " I do not think that you would have much trouble in getting emigrants to come here, Mr. Campbell, but the diHi- culty will be in ])ersuadiiig them to remain. Their object in coming out to this country is to obtain land of their own, and become independent. Many of them have not the means to go on, and, as a temporary resource, arc compelled to act as labourers; but the moment that tl(ey get sufficient to pur- chase for themselves, they will leave you." *^That is very natural; but I have been thinking of obtaining a larger grant than I have now, and I wish very much that I could make an arrangement with some emigrants. The Colonel says that I might do so by supplying them with seed, and taking corn in return as rent." "That would not be a ])ermanent arrangement," replied Mr. Emmerson. " How much land do you |)ropose applying for.?" "Six hundred acres." "Well, sir, I think it would meet the views of both parties 200 'atioii with 1 lie to Mr. !,()o(l waU'r- ii;e by I lie th a large s to settle (1(1 to our : hands to fire of last kvill be all tl ones too, it yon are e, and ilo s grow 11 [) )erries, the ipbeli says, trouble in t the difli- I* object in r own, and means to to act as nt to pur- inking of Avish very emigrants, them with replied 3 applying »th parties d TIIK SET'l'LEUS IN CANADA if you were to otter terms like the following -that is, divide the land into lots of one hundred acres each, and allow them to cultivate for you the fifty acres that adjoin your own land, with the rinht of ])urehasin!'- the other fiftv as their own property, as soon as they can. ^ On will then obtain three hundred acres of the most valuable land, in addition to your present farm, and have fi.xed neighbours around you, even after they are enabled to ])urchase the other fifty." "I think that a very good arrangement, Mr. I'^mmerson, and I would gladly consent to it." "Well, sir, I shall have plenty of opportunities this summer of making the proposal to the emigrants, and if I iind any parlies who seem likely to prove advantageous as neighbours, I will let you know." "And with such expectations I will apply for the additional grant," said Mr. Campbell, " for to have neighbours in this solitude, I would almost make them a j)resent of the land." "I suspect that in a few years yon will have neighbours enough, without resorting to such an expedient," replied Mr. Emmerson, " but according to your present ])roj)osal, they may be better selected, and you may make terms which Avill prevent any nuisances. ' The works at the mill proceeded rapidly, and before the hay-harvest the mill was complete. Alfred Avas very careful, and ])aid every attention to what was going on, and so did Martin, that they might understand the machinery. This was very simple. Mr. Emmerson tried the mill, and found it to answer well. Me explained everything to Alfred, and jxit the mill to work, that he might be fully master of it. As it was a fortnight after the mill was at work before Mr. Emmer- son could obtain a passage back to Montreal, Alfred and Martin worked both mills during that time, and felt satisfied that they required no further instruction. The soldiers, at the request of Mr. Campbell, were allowed to remain till the hay-harvest, and as soon as the hay was gathered in, they were paid and returned to the fort, Captain Sinclair, who, from his letter, had been expected to arrive much sooner, came just as the soldiers had left the farm. It need hardly be said that he Avas received most Avarmly. He had a great deal to tell them, and had brought out a great many presents ; those for poor little Percival he kept back, of course. Emma 201 \ ' '^ ■ 1 TIIK SEirLI'.HS IX CANADA Mf ; U and Mary wcvv. (U'lii^lilcd lo li.ivi; him a^aiii as a coiiipaiiion, aiu! to resume tlieir walks with him ; a lortnii^ht thus passed away v<;ry (|iii('kly, whiri his leave of al)seiice expiieil, and he WIS obli_i;('d to return to the (ort. I'revious, however, to his ijfoinm- away, he recjuested a private interview with Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, in whieh he stated liis exa(!t [josition and his means, and recpiested their sanetion to his payini^ his addresses to Mary. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, who had already pereeived the attentions he had shown to her, tlid not hesitate to ex- press Iheir satisfaction at his ricpiest, and t!"jir best wishes for his success ; and havinj;" so done, they left him to forward his own suit, which Captain Sinclair did not fail to do that very eveninj;-. Mary I'ercival was to«) amiable and riju'ht- minded a i;irl not at one(> to refiis(> or accept Captain Sinclair. As she had loni>' been attached to him she tlid not deny that such v.as the ease, and Captain Sinclair was overjoyed at his success. " I have spoken frankly to you, ( aptain Sinclair," said Mary; "1 have not denied that you have an interest in my all'ections ; but 1 nnist now re«piest you to let lue know what arc your futm'e views." "To do just what you wish me to tlo." "' I have no rii;ht to advise, and no wish to persuade. I have my own path of duty pointed ut to nie, and from that I cannot swerve." " And what is that .> " "It is that, inider present ciremnstanccs, 1 nmst not think of leavinj^ my uncle and aunt. I liave been bred up ;ind educated by them ; I have as an orphan shared their pros- perity ; 1 have a deep debt of gratitude to pay, and 1 cannot consent to return to T<^n<^land to enjoy all the advantages whieh your means will allord, while they remain in their present isolated position. Hereafter circumstances may alter my opinio]], but such it is at present." " But if I am willing to remain with you hei'c to shai'o your fortunes, will ]iot that satisfy you ? " ^' No, certainly not; for that would be allowing you to do injustice to youivself. I presume you do not mean to (ji]it your profession .'' " " I had no such iiitentioii ; but still, if I have to choose between you and the service, I shall not hesitate." 202 c>oiii|iaiii<>ii) thus passed rcd^ and he Livcr, to his ,h Mr. and ion and his is adthc'sses y perceived tate to ex- best wishes to forward to do that and ri<;ht- lin Sinclair, t deny that oyed at his .•lair," said 'rest in my know what suade. I I I'roni that not think led ii|) and their pros- d I cannot idvantagcs n in their i may alter e to share you to do an to (]nit to choose TIIR SiyiTI.KHS IN ( ANADA "I trust you will not hesitate, hut d(;lerniine to adhere steadily to your prol'ession for the present, ('a|»lain Sinclair. It will not do for you lo ^ive up your prospects and chance of advancentent fe," continued Mary, smilinj;-; "nor nnist you think of becoming a back- woodsman for a pale-faced girl." "Then what am 1 to do if, as you say, you will not leave your uncle and aunt.''" "Wait, Captain Sinclair; be salislied that you have my atlections, anil wait patiently till circumstances may occur which will enable me to reward yom* allection without being guilty of ingratitiK/e t(»ward those to whom 1 owt* so nuieh. On such terms I accept vou willini>lv; but v<>u must do vour duty to yourself, while 1 nuist discharge mif tluty toward my uncle and aunt." "I believe you are rights Mary," replied Capl.iin Sinclair; "only I do not see any dednite hope t>f om* being u -cti. Can you give me any prospect to cheer me ?" "We are both very young, Captain Sinclair," observed Mary; "in a year or two, my uncle and .unit may l)e less lonely and more cond'ortable than at present. In a year or two the war may end, and you may honourably retire upon half-pay ; in fact, so n)any chances are there which are hidden IVom us and come upon us so iniexpeetedly, that it is im- possible to say what may take place. And if, after waiting patiently for some time, none of these chances do turn uj), you have yet another in your iavoiu'." "And what is that, Mary?" "That, perhaj)s, I may be tired of waiting myself," replied Mary, with a smile. " Upon that chance, then, I will live in hope," re[)lie(l Captain Sinclair; "if yon will oidy reward n«e when you con- sider that my faithful service demands it, I will serve as long- as Jacob did for IJaeliel." " Do so, and you shall not be deceived at the end of your services, as he was," replied Mary; "but now let us return to the house." Captain Sinclair departed the day afterward, quite satisfied with Mary's resolution. 203 iij 1 1 'I 'l' . THE SETll.iatS IN CANADA I CHAPTEIi XXXII -^VS Henry liad predicted^ dui'in<; the autuinn tlie whole iUuiily were fully employed. The stock h.id iiuMe.ised very iiiueh^ they had a lari^e niiinber of youn«jf calves and heifers, and the sheep had lambed down very favourably. Many of the slock were now turned into the bush, to save the feed on the prairies. 'I'he sheep with their lambs, the cows which were in milk, and the youni"- calves only were retahied. This gave them more leisure t<> attend to the corn harvest, which was now ready, and it re(iuired all their united exertions from daylight to sunset lo get it in, for they had a very large (juantity of ground to clear. It was, however, got in very successfully, and all stacked in good order. Then came the thrashing of the wheat, which gave them ample employment ; and as soon as it could be thrashed out, it was taken to the mill in a waggon, and ground down, for Mr. Campbell had engaged to supply a certain quantity of flour to the fort before the winter set in. They occasionally received a visit from Captain Sinclair and the Colonel, and some other officers, for now they had gradually become intimate with many of them. Captain Sinclair had cojifided to the Colonel his engagement to Mary Percival, and in consequence the Colonel allowed him to visit at the farm as often as he could, con- sistently with his duty. The other officers who came to see them, perceiving how much Captain Sinclair engrossed the company of Mary Percival, were very assiduous in their attentions to Emma, who laughed with and at them, and generally contrived to give them something to do for her during their visit, as well as to render their attentions serviceable to the household. On condition that Emma accompanied them, they were content to go into the punt and fish for hours ; and indeed, all the lake-fish which were caught this year were taken by the officers. There were several very pleasant young men among them, and they were always well received, as they added very much to the society at the farm. 204 \ I the whole M'easetl very and heifers, y. Many of ive Ihe feed ; cows which ained. This irvest, which ertions from I very large got in very in came the hiployrnent ; :alven to the anipbcU had to the fort ?ived a visit thcr officers, ith many of Colonel his : the Colonel could, con- came to see grossed the us in their ; them, and do for her attentions hat Emma to the punt which were There were d they were the society THE SETTLERS IN CANADA Before the winter set in the flour was all ready and sent to the fort, as were the cattle which the Colonel requested, and it was very evident that the Colonel was right when he said that the arrangement would be advantageous to both parties. Mr. Campbell, instead of drawing money to pay, this year for the first time received a bill on the government to a considerable amount for the flour and cattle furnished to the troops; and Mrs. Camj)bcirs account for fowls, pork, ike, furnished to the garrison, was by no means to be despised. Thus, by the kindness of others, his own exertions, and a judicious employment of liis small capital, Mr. Campbell promised to be in a few years a wealthy and independent man. As soon as the harvest was in, Malachi and John, wlio were of no use in thrasliing out the corn, renewed their hunting expeditions, and seldom returned without venison. The Indians had not been seen by Malachi during his excur- sions, nor any trace of their having been in the neighbour- hood ; all alarm, therefore, on that account was now over, and the family prepared to meet the coming winter with all the additional precautions which the foregoing had advised them of. But during the Indian summer they received letters from England, detailing, as usual, the news relative to friends with whom they had been intimate ; also one from Quebec, informing Mr. Campbell that his application for the extra grant of land was consented to ; and another from Montreal, from Mr. Emmerson, stating that he had offered terms to two families of settlers who bore very good char- acters, and if they were accepted by Mr. Campbell, the parties would join them at the commencement of the ensuing spring. This was highly gratifying to Mr. Campbell, and as the terms were, with a slight variation, such as he had j)roposed, he immediately wrote to Mr. Emmerson, agreeing to terms, and requesting that the bargain might be concluded. At the same time that the Colonel forwarded the above letters, he wrote to Mr. Campbell to say that the interior of the fort required a large quantity of plank for re])airs, that he was authorised to take thein from Mr. Cam])bcH, at a certain price, if he could afford to supply them on these terms, and have them ready by the following spring. Tiiis was another act of kindness on the j^art of the Colonel, as it would now 205 ;r \ • ' > 1[ i ff ii I? I '4' •< ' '1 f • ,1 ! '" i. ! f 1 I \ • : THE SETTLERS IN CANADA pivc employment to the s.iw-mill lor tlie winter, and it was (luring the winter, and at the time that the snow was on the ground, that they could easily drcig the timber after it was felled to the saw-mill. Mr. Campbell wrote an answer, thanking the Colonel for his olfer, which he accepted, and promised to have the planks ready by the time the lake was again open. At last the winter set in with its usual fall of snow. Ca[)tain Sinclair took his leave for a long time, much to the sorrow of all the family, who were warmly attached to liim. It was arranged that the only parties who were to go on the hunting exciu'sions should be Malachi and John, as Henry had ample employment in the barns ; and Martin and Alfred, in felling timber, and dragging up the stems to the saw-mill, would, with attending to the mill as well, have their whole time taken up. Such were the arrangements out of doors, and now that they had lost the services of poor Percival, and the duties to attend to in doors were so much increased, Mrs. Cam])bell and the girls were obliged to call in the assistance of Mr. Campbell whenever he could be spared from the garden, which was his usual occupation. Thus glided on the third winter in quiet and security ; but in full employment, and with so much to do and attend to, that it passed very rapidly. It was in the month of February, when the snow was very heavy on the ground, that one day Malachi went up to the mill to Alfred, whom he found alone attending the saws, which were in full activity ; for Martin was squarijig out the timber ready to be sawed at about one hundred yards' distance. " I am glad to find you alone, sir," said Malachi, " for I have something of importance U tell you of, and I do not like at present that anybody else should know anything about it." " What is it, Malachi } " inquired Alfred. " Why, sir, when I was out hunting yesterday, I went round to a spot where I had left a couple of deer-hides last week, that I might bring them home, and I found a letter stuck to them with a couple of thorns." " A letter, Malachi ! " *' Yes, sir, an Indian letter. Here it is." Malachi then 206 1 '.! V and it was low was on ber after it an answer, lepted, and le lake was 11 of snow. Midi to the led to liim. o fro on the I, as Henry and Alfred, lie sawmill, their whole it of doors, ercival, and reased, Mrs. e assistance d from the ided on the mploymcnt, passed very )w was very up to the the saws, ng out the red yards' chi, "for I I do not w anything ay, I went hides last nd a letter jlachi then THE SF/n'LKRS IN CANADA produced a pi(.?c of birch bark, of which the undern(>ath drawing is a facsim!]*^. "Well," said Alfred, 'it uv.iy be a letter, but I ccmi'ess it is all (Jreek to me. 1 certainly do not see why you wish to keep it a secret, 'i'ell me." "Well, sir, I could not read one of your letters half so well as I can this; and it contains news of the greatest import- ance. It's the Indian way of writing, and I know also whom it comes from. A good action is never lost, they say, and I am glad to find that there is some gratitiuU; in an Indian." " You make me very impatient, Malachi, to know what it means; tell me from whom do y<»u think the letter comes.?" "Why, sir, do you see this mark hce.''" said Malachi, pointing to one of the lowest down on the piece of bark. " Yes ; it is a foot, is it not f ' ''Exactly, sir; now, do you know whom it comes from ? " " I can't say I do." " Do yf)u remember two winters back our picking uj) the 207 \ U^ \ i k • f ft I !},! r :'!!« m It »■ ' ' I THE SETTLERS IN CANADA Indian woman, and o/irryin«r her to the house, and yoin* father curing her sprained ankle ? " "Certainly ; is it from her? " " Yes, sir ; and yoii recollect she said that she belonged to the band which followed the Angry Snake." " I remember it very well ; but now, Malachi, read me the letter at once, for I am very impatient to know what she can Iiave to sa}'." " I will, Mr. Alfred; now, sir, there is the sun more than half up, which with them points out it is the setting and not the rising sun ; the setting sun therefore means to the westward." " Very good, that is |)l.'iin, I think." "There are twelve wigwams, tliat is, twelve days* journey for a warrior, which the Indians reckon at aoout fifteen miles a day. IIow much does fifteen times twelve make, sir.''" "One hundred and eighty, Malachi." " Well, sir, then that is to say that it is one hundred and eighty miles off, or thereabouts. Now the first figure is a chief, for it has an eagle's feather on the head of it, and the snake before it is his iolcni, 'the Angry Snake,' and the other six are the number of the band ; and you observe, that the chief and the first figure of the six have a gun in their hands, which is to inform us that they have only two riHes among them." "Very true; but what is that little figure following the cliief with his arms behind him }" " There is the whole mystery of the letter, sir, without which it were worth nothing. You perceive that little figure has a pair of snow-shoes over it." " Yes, I do." " Well, that little figin'c is your brother Percival, whom we supposed to be dead." " Merciful heavens ! is it possible } " exclaimed Alfred ; "then he is alive .''" "There is no doubt of it, sir," replied Malachi ; "and now I will put the whole letter together. Your brother Percival has been carried off by the Angry Snake and his band, and has been taken to some place one hundred and eighty miles to the westward, and this information comes from the Indian woman who belongs to the band, and whose life was j)rc- served by your kindness. I don't think, Mr. Alfred, that ' 1 ! ftiul your iloiiged to ftd me the lit she can more than 111(1 not the vestward. " yfi jouviicy ftccn miles ;, sir? iidred and figure is a it, and the ;l the other ^e, that the iheir hands, Hes among owing the ir, without itlle figure val, wliom ed Alfred ; « and now er Percival band, and ighty miles the Indian e was pre- ■.Ifred, that 11 IK SKITLKHS IN CANADA any white person could have writleu u letter more plaiii and UMU'e to the purpose." " I agree with you, Malaehi ; but the news has so over- powered me, I am so agitated with joy and anxiety of mind, that I hardly know what to say. Percival alive ! we'll have him, if we have to go one thousand miles and beat two thousand Indians. ()h, how happy it will make mv mother 1 But what are we to do, Malaehi ? tell me, I besceen you." " We must (h) nothing, sir," replied Malaehi. " Nothing, Malaehi!" replied Alfred with surprise. ** No, sir; nothing at present, at all events. We have the information that the boy is alive, at least it is presumed so ; but of course the Indians do not know that we have receiveil such information ; if they did, the woman would be killed immediately. Now, sir, the first (piestion we must ask our- selves is, why they have carried off the boy ; for it would be no use carrying off a liltlc boy in that manner without some object." " It is the very (piestion that I was going to put to you, Malaehi." "Then, sir, I'll answer it to the best of my knowledge and belief, It is this : the Angry Snake came to the settle- ment, and saw our stores of jiowder and shot, and everything else. He would have attacked us last winter if he had found an opportunity and a chaace of success. One of his band was killed, which taught him that we were on the watch, and he failed in that attempt : he managed, however, to pick up the boy when he was lagging behind us, at the time you were wounded by the painter, and carried him off, and he intends to drive a bargain for his being restored to us. That is my conviction." " I have no doubt but that you are right, Malaehi," said Alfred, after a pause. "Well, we must make a virtue of necessity, and give him what he asks." " Not so, sir ; if we did, it would encourage him to steal again." " What must we do then ? '* " Punish him, if we can ; at all events, we must wait at present, and do nothing. Depend upon it we shall have some communication made to us through him that the boy is in their possession, and will be restored upon certain con- W9 o !• 'PI •I ' ' ! ij i ',! I»li •! iMj^^i * rili: SKIILKKS IN CANADA (lit ions |)i'()l),-il)ly lliis s|)riii^-. ll will then be iiiiic lo coii- hidtr >vliaL is l«» be doiif." "1 brlievc you an- ri^lil, M.ilaclii." *' I hopi' lu circuiiivciiL liiiii yi;l, sir," replied Malaelii ; " bill >ve shall sie." '' Well ; bill, Malaehi, are we to lei this be known to any- body, or keej) it a seerel ? " " Well, sir, I've llioii^Iit «'f that ; we nnist only let Martin and Strawberry into the seeret ; and 1 would tell them, beeaiise they are almost Indians, as it were; they may have somt' one eonnn^- to thenj, and there's no fear of their lellin;;'. Martin knows i)eller, and as for the Strawberry, she is as safe as if she didn't know it." "1 believe yon arc rl^ht ; and still what delight it would j>ive my father and mother!" " Yes, sir, and all the family too, 1 have no doubt, for the first hour or two after you haci told them; but what pain it would ^ive them for months afterward. 'Hope deferred maketh the heart siek,' as my father used to read out of the IJible, and that's the truth, sir. Only eonsider how your father, and partieularly your mother, woidd fret and pine during' the whole time, and what a state of anxiety they would be in; they would not eat or sleep. No, no, sir; it would be a cruelty to tell them, and it nmst not be. No- thinji^ can be done till the sprini!,", at all events, and wc nmst wait till the messenoer comes to us." *' You are right, Malachi ; then do as you say, make the communication to '''^•Ttin and his wife, — and I will keep the secret as faithfully as tliey will." " It's a jL^reat point om- knowing whereabouts the boy is," observed Malaelii ; "for if it is necessary to make a party to go for him, we know what direction to go in. And it is also a great point to know the strength of the enemy, as now wc shall know what force we nmst take with us in case it is necessary to recover the lad by force or stratagem. All this we gained from the letter, and shall not learn from any messenger sent to us by the Angry Snake, whose head I hope to bruise before I've done with him." "If I meet him, one of us shall fall," observed Alfred. "No doubt, sir, no doubt," replied Malachi, "but if we can retake the boy by other means, so much the better. A 210 : iiiiic l«) con- ed Muluclii ; M)wn to any- ly It'l Martin il till thcni, ley niJiy have their telliM<;\ •ry, she is as \^\\i it wouhl loiibt, for the what pain it lope deferred 3ad out of tlie ler how your (Vet and pine anxiety they S'o, no, sir; il jot be. No- and we nnist i;iy, make the will keep the s the boy is/' ike a party to And it is also ly, as now wc in case it is rein. All this arn from any whose head I d Alfred. i, "but if we he better. A 'INK Srvni.KHS IN ( ANADA man, bad or ^ood, has but one \H\', and (iod ^ave it to him. It is not lor his fellow-crcalincs to lake it auay unless from necessity. I hope to have the boy without sheiUling of blood." " I am willing to have him back upon any terms, Malachi ; and, as you say, if wc can do il without sheddin winter passi-d away without interrii|)tion of any kind. Before the snow h
    bcll, "but I should ])refcr being at home, nevertheless. Wiiat a great brute it is." '' Yes, ma'am ; it is a very large animal, that's certain ; but they arc not very fat at this time of the year. See how he's smelling at the liquor, now he's licking the top of it with his tongue. He won't be satisfied with that, now that he has once tasted it. I told you so." The eyes of the whole party, some frightened and some not, were now fixed \\\ m the bear, who, approving of what he had tasted as a sample, now proceeded to helj) himself more liberally. He therefore placed his paw down into the contents of the cooler, but although the surface of the liquor was cool, the lower part was still scalding hot, and lie had not put his paw in for a moment, when he withdrew it with a loud roar, rear- ing up and sitting upon his hind legs, and throwing his burned })aw in the air. "I said so," observed Malachi, chuckling; "he has found it hotter than he expected." John, Alfred, and Martin burst out laughing at the sight ; and even Mrs. Camj)bell and the two girls could not help being amused. " He'll try it again," said Mcirlin. "Yes, that he will," replied Malachi. "John, be all ready with your rifle, for the brute has seen us." " Why, he von't come this way, will he ? " exclaimed Mrs. Campbell. " Yes, ma'am, that he most likely will when he is angry ; but you need not fear." " But I'm afraid, Malachi," said Mary )A "the animal is 'ell as honey." you saw at the t us stay where ounds of sugar, terrific brute," ''Malachi and ^rs. Campbell, ;less. Wiiat a s certain ; but See how he's • of it with his V that he has led and some 3ving of what helj) himself ontents of the was cool, tlie t put his paw •ud roar, rear- throwing his he has found at the sight ; uld not help , be all ready claimed Mrs. lie is anffrv : £ II f H • ^ i I ' 3 : f^ ri i ki'.. THE SETTLERS IN CANADA :♦• , ;?^- i :i'.'.;Ct in l\iris " Then perhaps you li.id better go about fifty yards back witli Mr. Campl)cll, where you will see the whole without danger. There he goes to it again ; I knew he would. Ui lartin, who had got all the dogs collected together and fast by a j)iece of deer's hide, as soon as they had discovered the bear, went back with Mr. and Mrs. Canipbell and the girls. "You need have no fear, ma'am," said Martin ; "the rilles won't miss their mark, .'oid if Ihcy tlid, I have ihc dogs lo let loose upon him ; and I think (Xscar, with the help of the others, would master hiin. Down - silence, Oscar— down, dogs, down. Look at the Strawberry, ma'am, she's not afraid, she's laughing like a silver bell." During this interval, the bear again apj)lie(l to the cooler, and burned himself as before, aud this time being more angry, he now gave another roar, and, as if consi i I'M 111 ■ ! I ' 1,' ^ 1 ^ ! 1 i I . 1 \ THE SETTLERS IN CANADA Indian, whether lie eonies hy day or hy ni^lit," replied Malachi. " At ni|:?ht he kills tl»e prowling wolf when he conies near to the lod^e." 'J'he Indian u^ain stopped and was silent. He know hy the words of Malachi th/it the wolf's skin, with which the Indian had been covered when he w.'is crawling to the palisades and had been shot by John, had been discovered. Malachi .'ifl«'r a whiU^ rencwt'd the conversation. " Is the Voinifif Otter of a near tribe .^" '•The lodereeived that Malachi knew where he came from, and from whoiM. At last he said - "It is many moons since the Ani;rv Snake has taken care f)f the white boy, and has fed him with venison; many moons that he has hunted for him to give him food ; and the white boy loves the Angry Snake as a father, and the Angry Snake loves the boy as his son. He will adoj)t him, and the white boy will be the chief of the tribe. He will forget the M'hite men, and become red as an Indian," ''The boy is forgotten by the white man, who has long nmnbered him with the dead," replied Malachi. "The white man has no memory," replied the Indian "to forget so soon ; but it is not so. He would make many presents to him who woidd bring back the boy." "Aiid what presents could he make.''" replied Malachi; " the white man is ])oor, and hunts with his young men as the Indian does. What has the white man to give that the Indian covets } He has no whisky." " The wliite man has powder, and lead, and rifles," replied the Indian ; " more than he can use, locked up in his store- house." " And will the Angry Snake bring back the white boy if the white man gives him powder, and lead, and rifles.'*" inquired Malachi. 220 t," replied f when he ; knew by which the u^ lo the liscovered. ley to tlie warrior ? " is a ^reat 2II me that t Malachi Vt last he taken care any moons the white ^ry Snake the white the white > has long ndian " to ake many Malaehi ; ig men as 3 that the 3/' replied his store- ivhite boy d rifles?" / Tin. SKI TLKUS IN CANADA "He will make a long journey, and l»riii<; tlir while hoy with him," replied the Indian; "but lirst let the while man bay what presents he will give." " He shall be spoken to," rejjlied Malaehi, "and his answer shall be brought, but the Young Otter nnist not go to tlii' white man's lodge. A redskin is not safe »Vom the rilles of the young men. When the moon is at Ihc lull I will meet the Young Otter after the sun is down, at the eastern side of the hmg prairie. Is it good ^ " "CJood," replied the Indian, who rose, turned on his heel, and walked away into the forest. When Malaehi returned to the house, he took an oppor- tunity of communicating to Alfred what hail taken place. After some conversation, they agreed that they would njake Captain Sinclair, who had that morning arrived from the i'ort, their confidant as to what had ocein'red, and decide with him upon what stej)s should be taken. Captain Sinclair was very much surprised, and equally delighted, when he heard that Percival was still alive, and warmly entered into the subject. " The great question is, whether it would not be better to accede to the terms of this scoundrel of an Indian chief," observed Captain Sinclair. " What are a few pounds of powder and a rifle or two compared with the happiness which will be produced by the return of Percival to his parents, who have so long lamented him as dead ? " "It's not that, sir," replied Malachi. "I know that Mr. Campbell would give his whole store-room to regain his boy, but we must consider what will '^e the consequence if he does so. One thing is certain, that the Angry Snake will not be satisfied with a trifling present ; he will ask many rifles, perhaps more than we have at the farm, and powder and shot in proportion ; for he has mixed much with white people, especially when the French were here, and he knows how little we value such things, and how 'much we love our children. Eat, sir, in the first place, yon supj)ly him and his band with arms to use against us at any other time, and really make them formidable ; and in the next place, you encourage him to make some other attempt to obtain similar presents — for he will not be idle. Recollect, sir, that we have in all probability killed one of their band, when he came to recon- noitre the house in the skin of a wolf, and that will never be 221 I ( i a TilK SK'nr.KUS IN ( ANAIM il fori^ottt'ii, l)nt revciif^t'd as soon as it can bo. Now, sir, if we ^'ivc liitn anus and aininiinitioii, wc sliall put the nu-aiis of ivvcii^c ill his hands, and I shoidd not he sin'|)risc(l to find ns one day attacked by him and his band, and it may be, overpowered by means of these riHes whieii you propose to j;ive him." "There is nnioh truth and nuicii j^ood sense in what yon say, Malaeiii — inde«'d 1 think it ahnost at onee decides the point, and that we nnist not consent to liis terms ; but then what must we do to recover the bt)y ? " "That is the (piestion which pii/zles nic," replied Alfred, "for I perfectly a;, would have attacked and nun'dered us all, that is clear. Not daring to do that, he has stolen Percival, and detains him, to retin'ii liim at his own price. Now, sir, the \'omi^ Otter has come to us, and oU'ers to come ai^ain. We have i;iven liim no j)led|ne of safe conduct, and, therefore, when he comes again, we must have an ambush ready for him, and make him prisoner ; but then you see, sir, we must have the assistance of the Colonel, ior he nmst be confined at the fort ; we coidd not well keep him at the farm. In the first place, it would be impossible then to withhold the secret from Mr. and Mrs. Canipbell ; and, in the next, we should have to be on the look-out for an attack every night for his rescue ; but if the Colonel was to know the whole circumstances, and would assist us, we might capture the Indian lad and hold him as a hostage for Master Percival, till we could make some terms with the Angry Snake." " I like your idea very much, Malachi," replied Captain Sinclair, "and if, Alfred, you agree with me, I will ac(piaint the Colonel with the whole of what has passed when I re- turn to-night, and see if he will consent to our taking such a step. When are you to meet the Indian, Malachi ? " " In three days, that is on Saturday ; it will be the full of 222 , sir, it* wc IIUJIIIS of c'd to iiiiidd accept ;d Maladii. chance." iiiu; us, ami iickcd and hat, he has at his t>wn , and oH'ei's jro of sale must have ; but then olonel, lor weW keep impossible Campbell ; )ok-out f*or olonel was [sist us, we lostage I'or witli the id Captain 111 acquaint dien I re- laking such li?" the full of 'iiii: siyrrM;i{s in canada the moon, and Ihi'n I meet him at ni;^hl, ai the end of ihi; prairie marest to the fori, so ihal Ihere will be no dilliciiUy in (h)in^ all wc projiose without Mr. and Mrs. Campbell lieiii^ aware of anything;" that has taki-n place." *' I think wc cannot do better than you have projiosed," said Alfred. " lie it so, then," said Captain Sinclair. " I will be here again to-morrow — no, not to-morrow, but the day after will be better, and then i will givi* ycm the reply of the Colonel, and make such arrangements as may be necessary." "That's all right, sir," replied \ialachi ; "and now all we have to do is to keep our own secret; so, perhaps, Captain Sinclair, you had better go back to the young ladies, for Miss Mary may imagine that it nmst be something of v(.'ry great importance which can have ditained you so long froui her presence;" and Malachi smiK-d as he finished his remark. "'i'herc's good sense in that observation, Malachi," said Alfred, laughing. "Come, Sinclair." Captain Sinclair cpiitted in the evening, and went back to the fort. He returned at the time appointed, ;ni(l infornu^d them that the Colonel fidly approved of tluir plan of holding the yoiuig Indian as a hostage, and that he would secure him in the fort as soon as he was brought in. " Now, do we want any assistance from the fort .'' S«n'cly not to capture an Indian lad ; at least, so I said to the Colonel," continued Captain Sinclair. " No, sir, we want no .assistance, .as you say. I am liis match, myself, if that were all ; but it is not strength which is recpiired. lie is as little .and supple as .an eel, and as diflicult to hold, that I am certain of. If we were to use our rifles, there would be no dillicidty, but to hold him woidd give some trouble to two of us, and if once he breaks loose, he will be too fleet for any of us." "Well, then, Malachi, how sh.ill we jiroceed .^ " "Why, sir, I must meet him, .and you and Mr. Alfred .and Martin must be hid at :i distance, and gradu.ally steal near to us. Martin shall have his deer thongs .all ready, and when you pounce upon him, he must bind him at once. Martin is used to them and knows how to manage it." "Well, if you think that we three cannot manage him, let us have Martin." 223 )( I < ill m-4 IP ft; - I-' •( ii 'i f' J :;'. it 1 1 f ' i • 1 i r ,^ 1 1 i 1 f ; I 1 ' f / 1 '1 ( \ii k^k I f \ THK SETTLERS IN CANADA " It isn't strejigth, sir/' replied Maluchi, "but he will slip through your fingers, if not well tied in half a minute. Now, we will just walk down to where I intend to meet him, and survey the place, and then I'll show you where you nnist be for we nmst not be seen together in that ilircction to-morrow, for he may be lurking about, and have some suspicion." They then walked to the end of the prairie nearest to the fort, which was about a mile from the house, and Malachi having selected his ground, and pointed out to them where to conceal themselves, they returned to the house, Alfred having made arrangements when and where he and Martin would meet Ca])tain Sinclair on the day appointed. The next day passed, and Malachi, as the sun sank be- hind the lake, walked out to the end of the prairie. He had not been there ten minutes when the young Indian stood before him. He was armed, as before, with his tomahawk and bows and arrows, but Malachi had come out expressly without his rifle. Malachi, as soon as he perceived the Indian, sat down, as is the usual custom among them when they hold a talk, and the Young Otter followetl his example. " Has my father talked to the white man .'* " said the Indian after a short silence. *'The white man grieves for the loss of his boy, and his squaw weeps," replied Malachi. "The Angry Snake .nust bring the boy to the lodge of the white man, and receive presents." " Will the white man be generous ? " continued the Indian. "He has powder, and lead, and rifles, and tobacco; will such presents please the Angry Snake } " "The Angry Snake had a dream," replied the Indian, "and he told me his dream. He flreamed that the white boy was put into his mother's arms, who wept for joy, and the white man opened his store, and gave to the Angry Snake ten rifles, and two kegs of powder, and as much lead as four men could carry away." "'Twas a good dream," replied Malachi, "and it will come true when the white boy comes back to his mother." "The Angry Snake had another dream. He dreamed that the white man received his child, and pushed the Angry Snake out from the door of his lodge." 224 THE SETTLERS IN CANADA t he will slip nute. Now, eet hini, and you must be n to-morrow, [)icioii." learest to the and Malaclii > them where louse, AHred e and Martin ed. sun sank bc- irie. He had Indian stood lis tomahawk out expressly , sat down, as >ld a talk, and ?" said the J boy, and his Snake nust and receive 2d the Indian, tobacco; will the Indian, hat the white t for joy, and ;o the Angry as much lead d it will come her." He dreamed ed the Angry " That was bad," replied Malachi. " Look at me, my son ; say, did you ever hear that the Gray Badger said a lie ,'' " and Malachi laid hold of the Indian's arm as he spoke. This was the signal agreed upon between Malachi and the party concealed, who rushed forward and seized the Indian. The Young Otter sprang up in spite of their endeavours to keep h?m, and would certainly have escaped, for he had got his tomahawk clear, and was about to wield it around his head, had not Martin already passed one of the deer thongs round his ankle, by which the Indian was thrown again to the ground. His arms were then secured behind his back with other deer-skin thongs, and another passed round his ankle and given to Alfred. " You were right, Malachi," said Captain Sinclair ; " how he contrived to twist himself out of our grasp I cannot imagine ; but he certainly would have been off, and probably have broken our heads before he went." " I know the nature of these Indians, sir," replied Malachi ; " they're never safe, even when tied, if the thong does not cut into the bone ; but you have him now, sir, fast enough, and the sooner you get to the fort the better. You have your rifles in the bush .'' " "Yes," replied Martin, "you'll find them behind the large oak tree." " I'll fetch them ; not that I think there's much danger of a rescue." "We have not far to take him," said Captain Sinclair, " for, as I wished you and Alfred not to be so long away as to induce questions to be asked, i have a file of men and a corporal about half a mile off, concealed in the. bush. But, Malachi, it is as well to let the Indian know that he is only detained as a hostage, and will be restored as soon as the boy is sent back." Malachi addressed the Indian in his own tongue, and told him what Captain Sinclair requested. "Tell him that there are several Indian women about the fort, who will take any message he may send to the Angry Snake." The Young Otter made no reply to anything said by Malachi, but looked around him very impatic ntly. " Be off as fast as you can," said Malachi, '' for depend 225 P THE SETTLERS IN CANADA upon it the Angry Snake was to meet liim after his talk with me ; I see it by his wandering eye, and his looking round for assistance. I will go with you, and return with Alfred and Martin, for 1 have no rifle." " You can take mine, Malachi, as soon as we come up to the soldiers." This was done in a few minutes. Captain Sinclair then took charge of the Indian, and set off with his party for the fort. Malachi, Alfred, and Martin returned to the house, and before they entered the prairie, Martin detected the tall form of an Indian at a short distance, in the shade of the trees. " Yes, I was sure of it," said Malachi. " It was well that I did not gr back without you. After all, in the woods, a man's no man without his rifle." '^ rj U ' J \ l.t! !■ ' I CHAPTER XXXV JVlARTIN was right wlien he stated that he perceived the form of the Angry Snake under the shade of the trees. The chief was then watching what occurred, and had been witness to the capture of liis emissary, and, following those who had the Young Otter in charge, saw him conveyetl to the fort. In the meantime, Malachi, Martin, and Alfred went home, without any suspicion being raised among the other branches of th.^ family of what had occurred. This gave them great satisfjiction. " Well, Malachi," said Alfred the next morning, as they were all bijsily enjployeci getting the seed into the new- cleared 1 nd, " what do you imagine will be the steps now taken by the Angry Snake ? " "It's hard to say, sir," replied Malachi; "for he we?l deserves the name of a snake, if, as the Scripture says, it's the subtlest thing on earth : he will try all he can. you may be sure ; and if it were not that he is afraid of us, he would attack us immediately ; but that I have no idea that he will venture upon." " No, for your letter says, that he has only two rifles in his hand, which are not enough to give him any chance of success." 226 I- we come up to THE SETTLERS IN CANADA "Very true, sir. I licar that the bateaux are comiiii^ from the fort for the pUink and flour." " Yes, to-morrow, if there is not so much wind as there is to-day ; it blows very fresh. Where is John } " " I left him with the Strawbeny, sir ; they were busy with the sugar." " By-the-bye, how much have you got, Malachi } " "About three or four hundred pounds, sir, as near as I can reckon ; qi^te as much as madam will require." " Yes, I should think so ; now we shall have preserves of all sorts and the fruit for nothing ; the wild raspberries are nearly ripe, and so are the cherries ; my cousins want John to help to gather them." "Well, sir, I dare say he will do so, although I believe that he would rather do anything else. He said he was going to fish this morning." "The water is too rough, and he will not be able to manage the punt by himself." " Then that's the very reason why he'll go out," replied Malachi ; " he don't like easy jobs like picking raspberries. Is it true, Mr. Alfred, that we arc to have some more settlers come here } " " Yes, I believe so ; my father is very anxious to have them ; he thinks it will be a great security, and he has offered very advantageous terms ; you won't much like that, Malachi .>" " Well, sir, I dare say you may think so, but it is not tlie case ; if any one had told me, two years ago, that I could have remained here, I would have said it was impossible, but we are all creatures of habit. I had been so used to my own company for so long a time, that when I first saw you I couldn't bear the sight of you ; iio, not even that of your pretty cousins. Miss Mary and Emma, although. Heaven knows, they might tame a savage ; b'lt now, sir, ! feel quite changed ; I have first borne with company, because I fancied the boy, and then I felt no dislike to it, and now I like it. I believe that in my old age I am coming back to my feelings as a boy, -md I think very often o\ my father's farm, and the little village that was close to it ; and then I often fancy that I should like to see a village rise up here, and a church stand up there upon the mount ; I think I should like to live 227 : 'I _.*"■ •{ \ V ^ il L't i U ' r klM '■d s'i ■' > ■■ »> * ■ 1 : 1 ■ • t 1 ' 1 ill ll if i I- ; 1 THE SRTTTJ:RS in CANADA on till I saw a church built and God worshipped as He ought to be." '•' This is indeed a change, Malachi ; .veil, I hope you will see a church on the mount, and live many years afterward to be present at the weddings and christenings." "As it pleases God, sir. There's one thing, Mr. Alfred, that has given me great content, and more than anything, perhaps, reconciled me to my new way of living ; and that is, that the Strawberry, by the blessing of God and the labour of your mother and cousins, has become a good Christian ; you don't know how pleased I am at that." x " She's an excellent little creature, Malachi ; every one is fond of her, and I believe Martin is very strongly attached to Ikm'." '•' Yes, sir, she's a good wife, for she never uses her tongue, and obeys her husband in all things. I think Martin has now become quite steady, and you might send him to Montreal, or anywhere else, without fear of his getting into the prison for making a disturbance. — I see that a bear has been over into the maize-field last night." " What ! did he climb the snake-fence ? " " Yes, sir, they climb anything ; but I have got his tracks, and this night I think that I shall get hold of him, for I shall lay a trap for him." Malaclii and Alfred continued to work for two or three hours, when they were summoned by Emma to go in to dinner. "I cannot find John," said Emma, as they walked home ; " Strawberry says that he left her some time back, and went to fish ; have you seen him pass by the river's sif!e ?" "No," replied Alfred ; "but, Malachi, you said that he was going to fish in the punt, did you not ? " " Yes, sir." " Do you see the punt on the beach, Emma } " " No, I do not," replied Emma ; " but it may be behind the point." " Nor can I ; I hope he has not been carried away by the wind, for it blows very hard ; I'll run down, and see if he is there." Alfred ran down to the beach ; the punt was gone from the shore, and after looking for some time to leeward, which was to the eastward, in the direction of the rapids. Alfred 228 d as He ouglit e pjot his tracks, ■ him, for I shall said that he was THE SET'rL]«:KS IN CANADA thought that he perceived something hke a boat at a distance of three or four miles ; but tlie water of the lake was much ruffled by the strong wind, and it was not easy to distinguish. Alfred hastcnetl back, and said to Ennna, " I really am afraid that John is adrift. 1 think I see the boat, but am not sure. Emma, go in quietly and bring out my telescope, which is over my bed-place. Do not let them see you, or they will be asking questions, and your aunt may be alarmed." Emma went to the house, and soon returned with the telescope. Alfred and Malachi then went down to the beach, and the former distinctly made out that what he had seen was the punt adrift, with John in it. " Now, what is to be done } " said Alfred. " I must take a horse, and ride off to the fort, for if they do not see him before he passes, he may not be picked up." " If he once gets into the rapids, sir," said Malachi, " he will be in great danger ; for he may be borne down upon one of the rocks, and upset in a minute." " Yes ; but he is some way frotn them yet," replied Alfred. " Very true, sir ; but with this strong wind right down to them, and helping the current, he will soon be there. There is no time to be lost.'' " No ; but I'll go in to dinner, and as soon as I have taken a mouthful, just to avoid creating any alarm, I will slip out, and ride to the fort as fast as 1 can." "Just so; you will be there in good time, for he is now three miles above the fort ; indeed, he cannot well pass it without their seeing him." "Yes, he can, now that the wiiter is so rough," replied Alfred ; " recollect that they are soldiers in the fort, and not sailors, who are accustomed to look on the water. A piece of drift timber and a punt is much the same to their eyes. Come, let us in to dinner." " Yes, sir ; I'll follow you," replied Malachi ; " but, before I come in I'll catch the horse and saddle him for you. You can tell Miss Emma to hold her tongue about it." Alfred rejoined Emma, M'hom he cautioned, and then they went in to their dinner. "Where's John?" said Mr. Campbell ; "he promised me some lake fish for dinner, and has never brought them in ; so you will not have such good fare as I expected." 229 ii * \ !'■ THE SETTLERS IN CANADA ft : ilim . '^ !'^' 1 ''f 1*1' i!f t n •I ■r ' t ' 1 ' f h! ' i' M^i "And where's M.ilaelii ? " said Alfred. " 1 dare say he and John are out together somewhere/' observed Henry, who, with Martin, had eonie in before Alfred. " Well, he will lose his dinner," said Mrs. Campbell. " That's what I cainiot allord to do, mother," said Alfred ; " I am very hungry, and I have not more than five minutes to spare, for the seed must be put in to-night." " I thought Malachi was with you, Alfred," said Mr. Campbell. " So he was, talhcr," replied Alfred ; '* but he left me. Now, nu)ther, j)lease to give me my dinner." Alfred ate fast, and then rose from the table, and went away from the house. The horse was all ready, and he mounted and rode off for the fort, telling Malachi that his father and mother thought John was with him ; and that, therefore, he had better not go in to dinner, but keep out of the way. " Yes, sir, that will be best, and then they can ask no questions. Be ([uick, sir, for I am not at all easy about the boy." Their plans, however, to conceal the danger of John did not succeed ; for Mrs. Campbell, after the loss of poor little Percival, had become more than ever solicitous about John, and, a minute or two after Alfred had left the house, she rose from the table, and went to the door, to see if she could perceive Malachi and John coming in. As it happened, Alfred had just set oiT in a gallop, and she saw him, as well as Malachi standing by himself and watching Alfred's departure. The very circumstance of Alfred's mysterious departure alarmed her. He had never said that he was going to the fort, and that John was not with Malachi was certain. She went into the cottage, and, sinking back in her chair, exclaimed — " Some accident has happened to John ! " " Why should you say so, my dear ? " said Mr. Campbell. " I'm sure of it," replied Mrs. Campbell, bursting into tears. " Alfred is riding away to the fort. Malachi is standing by himself outside. What can it be .'' " Mr. Campbell and all the others ran out immediately, except Mary Percival, who went to Mrs. Campbell. Mr. 230 THE SFTTLKRS IN CANADA r," said Alfred ; un five iiiiiiuteu >» fred," said Mr. le left me. Now, Campbell beekoiicd to Emma, and from her obtained the real state of the case. "It will be better to tell her at once," said Mr. Camj)l)ell, who then went to his wife, telling her that .John was adrift, and that Alfred had ridden to the fort to pick him up in one of the baleaux, but there was no danger to be apprehended." "Why should they conceal it, if there was no danger, Campbell.'^" replied his uife. "Yes; there must be danger now the water is so rough. My child, am I to lose you as well as my poor Percival ! " continued Mrs. Campbell, again sobbing! Every attempt was made to console her and assuage her fears, but with indifferent success, and the afternoon of this day was passed in great concern by all, and in an extreme state of nervous anxiety on the part of Mrs. Campbell. Toward the evening, Alfred was seen returning on horseback at full speed. The whole of the family were out watching his arrival, with beating hearts ; poor Mrs. Campbell in almost a fainting state. Alfred perceived them long before lie had crossed the prairie, and waved his hat in token of good tidings. "All's well, depend upon it, my dear," said Mr. Campbell. " Alfred would not wave his hat if there was any disaster." " I must have it from his own mouth," said Mrs. Campbell, almost breathless. " Safe .'* " cried out Martin to Alfred, as he approached. "Safe,*quite safe ! " eric J Alfred, in ret; i. "Thank Heaven!" cried Mrs. Campbell, in a low voice, clasping her hands in gratitude. Alfred leaped off his saddle, and hastened to communicate the news. .Tohn, trusting too much to his own powers, hatl gone out iii the punt, and soon found out that he couKl not manage it in so strong a wind. He attempted to get back to the beach, but was unsuccessful, and had, as we have said, been carried away by the wind and current down toward the rapids; but it so happened, that before Alfred had arrived at the fort. Captain Sinclair had observed the punt adrift, and, by the aid of a telescope, ascertained that John was in it, exerting himself very vigorously, but to no purp(;se. Captain Sinclair, having reported to the commandant and 231 i. i f ^W' i' ir; 'J fl^ Till', Sr/n'LKUS IN CANADA obtaiiicd ponnissioii, had launched one of the balvaiix, manned by the soldiers, and had brouglit .lohn and the punt on shore, about v'our miles below the fort, and not until they had arrived in the strong current of the rapids, which in anotlier hour would have, in all probability, proved fatal. Alfred, from the fort, had seen Captain Sinclair gain the shore, with John and the punt in tow, and, as soon as hq was satisfied of his brother's safety, had ridden back .'is fast as he could, to communicate it. This intelligence gave them all great delight, and now that Ihey knew that .John was safe, they waited his return with patience. Captain Sinclair arrived, with John behii.d him, on liorseback, about two hours after- warl, and was gladly welcomed. " Indeed, Ca))lain Sinclair, we are under great obligations to you. Had you not been so active, the boy might have been lost," sai(i Mrs. Campbell. " Accept my best thanks." "And mine, " said Mary, extending her hand to him. "John, you have frightened me very much," said Mrs. Campbell ; " how could you be so imjirudent as to go on the lake in such a high wind .'' See what a narrow escape you have had." " I should have been at Montreal to-morrow morning," said John, laughing. " No, never ; you would have been upset in the rajnds long before you could get to Montreal." " Well, mother, I can swim," rej)lied John. " You naughty boy, nothing will make you afraid." "Well, ma'am, it's a good fiult, that of having confidence in yourself, so don't check it too much," replied Malachi. " It saves many a man who would otlierwise be lost." "That's very true, Malachi," observed Alfred; "so, now that he is safe back, we won't scold John any more. He will know better than to go out in such rough weailier again." " To be sure I shall/' said John ; " I don't want to go down the rapids." "Well, I'm glad to hear you say lliat," replied Mrs. Campbell. Captain Sinclair remained with them that night. Before dt ylight, the family were alarmed by the report of a gun, and it was immediately supposed that some attack had been made on the lodge occupied by Malachi, Martin, and his 232 i\\\ >fc^. . ILJ THK SKTTLRHS IN CANADA iore. He will 'jrht. Before wife. ('<-i))taiM Sinclair, AllVtd, ami .lolm sprang; out of bed, and were clotiictl in a minute. As soon as tluy had armed themselves, they opened the door cautiously, and, looking well round, went through the passage to the shtepfold whvre the lodge was built. l"',V(!ry thing, however, appeared to be quiet; and Alfred knocked at the door. Malaehi answered to the inquiry, " What is the matter ? " " W c heard the report of a gun close to the house jiist now, and we thought something might have happened." "Oh!" cried Malaehi, laughing, *' is that a'l .^ Then you I may all m) to bed again. It's my trap for the ' ear — nothing more. 1 forgot to tell you last night." " Well, as we are up, we may as well go and see," said Alfred ; "the day is breaking." "Well, sir, I am ready," said Malaehi, coming or' with his deer-skin jacket in one hand and his rifle in the other. They walked to the maize-field on the other side of the river, and found that the tr'p had been successful, for a large bear lay dead at the foot of the snake-fence. " Yes, sir, I've got him," said Malaehi. " But what was the trap .'' " said Henry. " You see, sir, I tracked the brute over the rails by his broad foot-mark, and as I knew he would come the same way, I fixed the rifle with a wire to the trigger, so that, as he climbed up, he must touch the wire with his fore-paws, and the muzzle, pointed a little downward, would then about reach his heart when the gun went off. You see, sir, it has happened just as I wished it, and there's another good skin for Montreal." " It is a she-bear," said Martin, who had joined them, "and she has cubs ; they can't be far off*." "That's true," replied Malaehi; "so now you had better all go back again. Martin and I M'ill hide, and I'll answer for it, in an hour, we will bring the cubs home with us." The rest of the party returned to the house. The Straw- bei'ry had already made known to Mr. and Mrs. Canqibell the cause of the report. About an hour before breakfast, Malaehi and Martin came in, each with a cub of a few weeks old. The little animals had come in the track of the mother in search of her, and were pawing the dead body, as if trying to awaken her^ when Malaehi and Martin secured them. 233 li! li < ' ^k' ! ' »^ . I -A } t 'INK sr;i II.KKS IN CANADA " Wli.il ;i cli.inuin^ pel ! " saul J!,nmia; " 1 will ivar it lor iiiyst'ir." " And I'll have i\w. ollu r," said J(»lm. No ohji'i'lion was raisid to this, except that Mr. C'amphell observed, thai it' Ihey became troublesome as they grew uj), they must be parted with, which was a;^reed to. lilminu and .lohu took possession of their pels, and led them with milk, and in a lew days the^ became very tame ; one being chained tip near the house, and the other at Malachi's lodge. They soon grew very playful and very anmsing little animals, and the ilogs became used to them, and never attempted to hurt them ; indeed, very often Oscar and the bear would be seen rolling about together, the best friends in the world. Hut in a few months they became too large for pels, and too troid)les()me, so one was despatched by a halcdii going to Montreal, as a present to Mr. I'jnmerson, and the other w.'is taken to the fort by Captain Sinclair, and became a great favourite of the soltliers. CHAPTER XXXVI C^APTAIN SINCLAIR was now very constantly at the house, for iu the summer time the commandant allowed nmcli more liberty to Uie officers. Although the detention of the Young Otter and the cause of his being detained, had been made known to the Angry Snake, weeks passed away, and yet there appeared no intention on the part of the chief to redeem his young warrior by producing Percival. Every day an overture on his part was expected, but none came, and those who were in the secret were in a continual state of suspense and anxiety. One thing had been ascertained, which was, that the Indian fired at by John had been killed, and this occasioned much fear on the part of Malachi and Martin, that the Angry vSnake would revenge the death upon young Percival. This knowledge of the Indian feeling, how- ever, they kept to themselves. Toward tiie close of the summer they had an arrival of letters and newspa})ers, both from England and Montreal. There was nothing peculiarly interesting in the intelligence 23v ill ivjir it for Mr. Cjiiiiplu'll llicy j?rcw up, o. I^uniiu ami lein with milk, le ; one being V jit M.-ilachi's ' amusing little Ljin, and never Oscar and the he best friends fame too large espatehed by a Ennnerson, and 11 Sinclair, and istantly at the ndant allowed the detention g detained, had s passed away, art of the chief ercival. Every )ut none came, >ntinual state of en ascertained, ad been killed, of Malachi and the death upon ni feeling, how- d an arrival of and Montreal. ;he intelligence THE SE'iri.EHS IN CANADA from J'iiigiaiHJ, altlioiigli the ne\vs|)Mpers >vi.'rt', as usual, nad with great avidity. One paragraph nut iht; vyc of llrnry, which he iunnediately eonnnunieated, observing at I he time that they always obtain(;d news of Mr. Douglas Campbell on every fresh arrival. The paragraph was as follows: "The Oxiey hounds had a splendid run on Eriday l.ist ; " alter describing the country they passed through, the paragraph ended with, "We regret to say that Mr. ])ouglas Campbell, of VVexton Mall, received a heavy fall from his horse, in clear- ing a wide brook. He is, however, we understand, doing well." 'I'he letters from Motdreal, were, however, important. They connuunic-ated the innnediate departure from tliat city of lour families of emigrants, who had accepted the terms ofl'ered by Mr. ] it' i ! ) ( tents prepared lor (Ik-iii ; and as their lalmiir was now rddcd to that ot' llir land, al'lcr it tlu-re were »ly of stock to vhile to dwell )ell, with Ins acres, wliicli icli was all in Icring oil the I new land, so to get it into I at work, the e his account imient for the [)leasure," said u\ I render it Governor so to d very advan- d the govern- ie that it has et rid of your •ntreal ; which as getting the f ou may keep rms as before, 3d they return getting in the >e most happy emigrants, and jout them, the name of fifteen, and a In had been a ng an honest his eldest son, who was at tlic time about twenty years old, fell into bad company, and was always to be seen at the alehouses or at the fairs, losing his time and losing his money. The father, whose ancestors had resided for many generations on the same spot, and had always been, as long as they could trace back, small farmers like himself, and who was proud of oidy one thing, which was that his family had been noted for honesty and upright dealing, did all he could to reclaim him, but in vain. At last the son was guilty of a burglary, tried, convicted, and transported for life. The disgrace had such an effect upon the father, thi't he never held up his head afterward ; he was ashamed to be seen in the parish, and at last he resolvetl to emigrate to a new country where what had happened would not be known. He accordingly sold off everything, and came to Canada ; but by the time that he had arrived in the country, and paid all his expenses, he had little money left, and when he heard from Mr. Ennncrs(m the terms offered by Mr. Campbell, he gladly accepted them. The wife, his two sons and his daughter, who came with liim, were as industrious and as respectable as himself. The second family, of the name of Graves, consisted of a man and his wife, and only one son, a young man grown up ; but the wife's two sisters were with them. He i»ad come from Buckinghamshire, and had been accustomed to a dj iry farm. The third family was a very numerous one, with i* man and his wife, of the name of Jackson ; these had been farmers and market-gardeners near London ; and had brought out some money with them : but, as I have mentioned, they had a very large family, most of them too yoimg to be very useful for a few years. They had seven children : a girl of eighteen, two boys of twelve and thirteen, then three bttle girls, and a boy an infant. Jackson had money enough to purchase a farm, but being a very prudent man, and reflecting that he might not succeed at first, and that his large family would ru.i away with all his means, he decided upon accepting the terms proposed by Mr. Campbell. The fourth and last of the emigrant families was a young couple of the name of Meredith. The husband was the son of a farmer in Shropshire, who had died, and divided his 237 •I i I, 'ti , > f!^ , I ^iif . 1 1 \< THE SETTLERS IN CANADA property between liis three sons : two of them remained upon the farm and paid the youngest brother his proportion in money, who, being of a speculative turn, tesolved to come to Canada, and try his fortune. He married just before he came out, and was not as yet encumbered with rmy family ; he was a fine young man, well educated, and his wife a very clever, pretty young woman. Thus there was an addition of twenty-one souls to the population of Mr. Campbell's settlement, which with their own ten made a total of thirty-one people, out of whom they reckoned that thirteen were capable of bearing arms, and defending them from any attack of the Indians. Before harvest time, the cottages were all built, and the emigrants were busy felling round their new habitations, to lay up firewood for the winter, and clearing away a spot for a garden, and for planting potatoes in the following spring. The harvest being ripe again, gave them all full employment ; the corn was got in with great expedition by the united labour of the soldiers and emigrants, when the former, having completed their work, returned to the fort, and the Campbells, with the addition to their colony, were now left alone. Visit- ing the emigrants in their own cottages, and making acquaint- ance with the children, was now a great source of amusement to the Miss Percivals. Various plans were started relative to establishing a Sunday-school and many other useful arrange- ments ; one, however, took place immediately, which was, that divine service was performed by Mr. Campbell in his own house, and was attended by all the emigrants every Sunday. Mr. Campbell had every reason to be pleased with their conduct up to the present time ; they all appeared willing, never murmured or complained at any task allotted to them, and were satisfied with Mr. Campbell's aiTangements relative to supplies. Parties were now again formed for the chase ; Meredith and young Graves proved to be good woodsmen and capital shots with the rifle, so that now they had enough to send out a party on alternate days, while one or two of the others fished all the day and salted down as fast as they caught, that there might be a full supply for the winter. But although Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and the Miss Percivals, as well as the major part of the family, were fully satisfied and happy in their future prospects, there were four 238 m\ !i h i. liir SETTLERS IN CANADA wlio were in a state of great anxiety and suspense. These were Alfred, Malachi, Martin, and the Strawberry, who, being acquainted with the existence of young Percival, found their secret a source of great annoyance, now that, notwith- standing the capture and detention of the Young Otter, no advance aj)peared to be made for his excliange, nor any signs of any overtin*e on the j)art of tlie Angry Sn.ike. Captain Sinclair, who was usually at the farm twice during the week, was also much fretted at finding that every time Malachi and Alfred had no more information to give him than he had to impart to them. They hardly knew how to act ; to let a second winter pass away without attempting to recover the boy, appeared to them to be delaying too long,, and yet to communicate intelligence which might only end in bitter disappointment, seemed unadvisable ; for the Indian chief, out of revenge, might have killed the boy, and then the grief of the father and mother would be more intense than before. It would be opening a wound to no purpose. This question was frequently canvassed by Alfred and Captain Sinclair, but an end was put to all their debates on the subject by an unexpected occurrence. Mary Percival had one morning gone down to a place called the Cedar Swamp, about half a mile from the house to the westward, near to the shore of the lake, to pick cranberries for preserving. One of the little emigrant girls, Martha Jackson, was with her ; when one basket was full, Mary sent it home by the little girl, with directions to come back immediately. 'J'he girl did so, but on her return to the Cedar Swamp, Mary Percival was not to be seen. The basket which she had retained with her was lying with all the cranberries upset out of it on a hill by the side of the swamp. The little girl remained for a quarter of an hour, calling out Miss Percival's name, but not receiving any answer, she became frightened, imagining that some wild beast had attacked her; and she ran back as fast as she could to the house, acquainting Mr. and Mrs. Campbell with what had happened. Martin and Alfred were at the mill ; Malachi, fortunately, was at his own lodge, and Strawberry ran for him, told him what the girl had reported, and having done so, she looked at Malachi, and said " Angry Snake." " Yes, Strawberry, that is the case, I have no doubt," 2.39 li' il • i '■ il THE SETTLERS IN CANADA 1/ * J. r-! I,, ■t*l^ 1 1 i' ' f n replied Malachi ; "hut not a word at present; I knew lie would be at something, but I did not think that he dared do that either; however, we shall see. Go back to the house, and tell master and missis that I have gone down to the Cedar Swamp, and will return as :;oon as possible, and do you follow me as fast as you can, for your eyes are younger than mine, and I shall want the use of them : tell them not to send anybody else, it will do harm instead of good, for they will trample the ground, and we may lose the track." Malachi caught up his rifle, examined the priming, and set off in the direction of the swamp, while the Strawberry returned to the house to give his message to Mr. and Mrs. Campbell. Leaving Mr. and Mrs. Canipbell, who were in a great state of alarm, and had sent the little girl, Martha Jackson, to summon Alfred and Martin (for John and Henry were out in the woods after the cattle), the Strawberry went down to the Cedar Swamp to join Malachi, whom slie found standing still, leaning on his rifle, near the basket which ha the house, lown to the jiblc, and do are younger 11 : tell them ;ead of good, nay lose the priming, and le Strawberry Mr. and Mrs. /ho were in a ; girl, Martha hn and Henry rawberry went horn she found iket which had many of them said Malachi, k on the short observation of Ibut we cannot lill we come to r. That's her iceeded two or grass sharper jow, and if the [ling the track |)se to the short, tchi. "T-et us then we shall ph, Malachi and imperceptible THE SETTLERS IN CANv\DA track till they arrived at the bottom of the hill, about a hundred yards from where they started. It had become more difficult, as the print of Mary's foot, which was more easily perceptible than the others, had served them for a few yards ; after which it was no more to be distinguished, and it was evident that she had been lifted uj) from the ground. This satisfied them that she had been carried off. When they arrived at the bottom of the hill, they could clearly distin- guish the print marks of moccasins, and by measuring very exactly the breadth and length of the impressions, made out that they were of two different people. These they con- tinued to follow till they arrived at the forest, about a quarter of a mile from the swamp, where they heard the hallooing of Alfred and Martin, to which Malachi answered, and they soon joined him. " What is it, Malachi > " "She has been carried off, sir, I've no doubt," replied Malachi, " by the Snake. The rascal is determined to have ll»e vantage of us. We have one prisoner, and he has made two." Malachi then explained why he was certain that she had been carried away, and Martin agreed with him immediately Alfred then said — " Well, but now, before we act, let us con- sult wliat is best to be done." " Well, sir," replied Malachi, " the best to do now, at this moment, is for the Str.iwberry and me to follow the trail, and try if we cannot obtain more information, and when we have got all we can, we must form a party, and go in pursuit. Let us only get fairly on the trail, and we will not lose it, especially if the Strawberry is with us, for she has a better eye than any Indian I ever knew, be it man or woman." " Well, that is all right, Malachi ; but what shall I do now while you are following up the trail ? " " Well, sir, you must prepare the party, and get them all ready for a start ; for we must be olF in three hours, if possible." "Captain Sinclair had better come with us. He will be quite frantic if he does not," said Alfred. *' Well, then, perhaps he had, sir," replied Malachi coldly *, "but I'd rather he were away. He won't be so cool and calm as he ought to be." 241 Q I! I ill ik \ : 1! f i THE SiyiTLKUS IN CANADA ,) ' I 'M n ( ',4 I * I '.' " Never fear ; but I must now ^;o to iny fatlier aiul mother, and tell tlie whole of the eircimistaiiees whieh iiave occurred. 1 must tell them that I'ereiva'j is alive." '' Why so, sir? " replied Malachi. " It will only fret them more. It's quite siitHeient that they should have to lament Miss Pereival being- carried off, without their knowing' what fresh cause for anxiety there is about the boy. I would only say that Miss Mary has been carried off by somebody, and leave out all about our having captured the Young Otter, and why we took him." " Well, perhaps it will be better," said Alfred ; " then I'll leave Martin I. ere, and ride off to the fort to Captain Sinclair. Shall 1 ask for any soldiers } " " Yes, sir ; if there are any good backwoodsmen among them, we may find a couple of them of service. We ought to have a larger force than the Indian ; and the latter, if you recollect, is stated at six with the chief Now, there are you, Martin, and I, that's three ; Captain Sinclair and two soldiers would be six ; young Graves and Meredith make eight. That's sullicient, sir; more than sufficient does harm. Mr. Henry must stay, and so must Mr. John, because he will not be home before we are away. I'm sorry for that, as I should have liked him to be with me." " It can't be helped," replied Alfred. "Well then, Martin and I will go back at once ; in two hours I will return with Captain Sinclair, if I possibly can." " As (juick as you please, sir, and Martin will get everything ready for the journey, for we must not fire our rifles, if we can help it." Alfred hastened away, and was soon followed by Martin, to whouj Malachi had given some directions. Malachi and the Strawberry then continued to follow the trail, which they traced through the thickest of the wood for more than an hour, when they came upon a spot where a fire had been lighted, and the ground trodden down, evidently showing that the parties had been living there some time. " Here was the nest of the whole gang," resumed Malachi, as he looked round. The Strawberry, who had been examining the ground, said — " Here is her foot again." 242 THE SETTLERS IN CANADA ^r and niotlier, hiive occmrcd. only IVct thcni Kive to lament knowing what I would only somebody, and Young Otter, red; "then I'll ;^aptain Sinclair. )odsnien among ice. We ought he latter, if you Now, there are linclair and two Meredith make cient does harm, because he will ly for that, as I ^ell then, Martin will return with 1 get everything r rifles, if we can ed by Martin, to Malachi and the rail, which they ore than an hour, id been lighted, lowing that the esumed Malachi, ling the ground, \' " Yes, yes ; it's clear enough that two of them have carried her off and brought her here to where the others were waiting for them, and from here the whole party have made their start. Now we have the new trail to find, and that they have taken every care to prevent us, I do not doubt." The Strawberry now pointed to a mark near where the fire had been lighted, and said, " The moccasin of a squaw." " Right, then she is with them, so nuich the better," re- plied Malachi, " for, as she sent nie that letter, she may serve us still, if she chooses." CHArTER XXXVII X REVIOUS to his starting for the fort, Alfred had a hasty communication with his father and mother, in which he in- formed them simply that it was evident that Mary had been carried off, and that it was the opinion of Malachi and Martin that the Angry Snake was the party to be suspected. " But what cause could he have .'' " said Emma, weeping. " Merely to get powder and shot as a reward for bringing her back again," replied Alfred ; " so there is not anything to fear as to her being ill treated ; but if he has any other reason for what he has done, it is well known tliat an Indian always respects a female. But here comes my horse." *' But what are you going to do, Alfred.'*" said Mrs. Campbell, who was in a state of great agitation. *' Ride to the fort for assistance, bring Captain Sinclair, and go in pursuit as fast as we can, mother. Martin will get all ready by my return, Malachi is following up the trail with Strawberry. But there is no time to be lost ; -I shall soon be back." Alfred then sprang upon his horse, which Martin luul brought to the door, and galloped away to the fort. As it may be supposed, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and Emma were in great distress ; this did not, however, prevent them from listening to Martin, and supplying hir.i with all that he requested, which was salt pork and other food for their journey, powder and shot for their rifles, &c. Having speci- fied all that was wanted, Martin then went off to summon 243 11 P H' H ! ( ■ !) ' • t S 1 Ji' J THE SETTLERS IN CANADA young Graves and Meredith ; they were soon found, and when tliey heard the intelligence, were ready in a minute for departure. Their rifles and an extra pair of moceasins each was all that they required for the journey, and in a few minutes they accompanied Martin to the house. After they had been occupied for a little time in dividing the v.arious articles into different packages, that each might carry his proportion, Mr. Campbell said — " Martin, supposing that you and Malachi are correct in your supposition, where do you think that they will take my poor niece ? " " Right away to their own wigwams, sir," replied Martin. "Have you any idea how far that may be.**" said Mrs. Campbell. " Yes, ma'am, I have heard that the Angry Snake's (piarters are about twelve days' journey from this." ** Twelve days' journey ! how far is a journey } " " As far as a stout man can walk in a day, ma'am." " And will my niece have to walk all the way } " " Why, yes, ma'am ; I don't see how it can be otherwise ; I don't know of the Indians having any horses, although they may have." " But she cannot walk as far as a man," replied Mrs. Campbell. ** No, ma'am, and so I snj)pose they will be twenty days going instead t)f twelve." " Will they ill-treat or ill-use her, Martin .'* " said Emma. " No, ma'am^ 1 shouldn't think they would, although they will make her walk, and will tie her at night when they stop." " Poor Mary ! what will she suffer t " excla;med Emma ; "and if you do come up with them, Martin, will they give her up to you } " "We shan't ask their leave, miss," replied Martin; "we shall take her." "But not without bloodshed, Martin," said Mrs. Campbell. " No, ma'am, certainly not without bloodshed, for either the Indians must destroy us or we them ; if we conquer, not an Indian will be left alive ; and if they master us, it will be about the same thing, I suppose." " Heaven protect us, but this is dreadful ; I was prepared 24i4i iiiil, and when a minute for noccasins each and in a few 3. After they ng the various light carry his arc correct in ;y will take my ;piied Martin, je?" said Mrs. Angry Snake's this." jy? [Tia'am." ray r 11 be otherwise ; liorses, although ," replied Mrs. be twenty days " said Emma. J, although they isrht when they cla;med Emm.i ; 11, will they give ed Martin; "we d Mrs. Campbell. [Ishcd, for either we conquer, not ster us, it will be ; I was prepared THE SETTLERS IN CANADA for difficulties and annoyances when I came out here," ex- claimed Mrs. Campbell ; "but rot for such trials as these." " Never fear but we'll bring her back, m.i'ani," said Martin ; " Malachi is a better Indian than them all, and he'll circumvent them." " How do you mean ? " " I mean, ma'am, that we will, if possible, fall upon them unawares, and then we'll have Hie advantage, for half of them will be killed before they know that they are attacked ; we'll fight them Indian fashion, ma'am." Mrs. Campbell continued her interrogations till Alfred was seen at the end of the j)rairie returning at full speed, accompanied by Captain Sinclnir and two other men, also on horseback. " Here they come," said Martin ; " and they have lost no time, that's certain." " Poor Captain Sinclair ! what must be his feelings } I pity him," said Mrs. Canipbell. "He must take it corlly, nevertheless," observed Martin; "or he may do n or* harm than good." Alfred and Cjfptain Sinclair now dismounted : they ha"*% i m ..' • I. '. ' I- leaving the Strawberry to walk down and Jip the side of the rivulet to recover the trail. As soon as the party joined l»im, they and Malachi set off to where the tr; )1 had been lost, and the latter had lei't the Strawberry. There they waited some time, as the Strawbury was not ?n sight, and they took this opportunity of dis^^vibuting th .* provisions and annnunition among them. Caj' lin S .iclair, although his feelings mav well be imagined, v is very active in arrangcjuents, arul showed that, ii .iis heart was smitten In- head .vas ele ^r. Tlie order of the march was settled by Malachi and him, and as soon as all was arranged, ;!iey waited impatiently for the retin'n of the Indian girl; shv came at last, and informed them that she had re- covered the trail about three miles up the course of the stream, and they all started immediately. As was agreed, they kept perfect silence, and followed the newly-discovered trail for about a mile, when, on their arrival at a clear spot in the woods, where the grass was very short and dry, they wore again at fault. They went over to the other side of this heath, to see if they could again fall in with it, but after half-an-hour's search, could not discover it, when they were summoned by a low whistle from the Strawberry, who had returned to the spot where the trail had been lost. "They have turned back again," said the Strawberry, pointing to the former footmarks; "see, the track of the moccasins is both ways." " That's true," said Malachi, after a close examination ; "now then. Strawberry, to find out where they have left the old trail again. I tohl you, sir," continued Malachi to Alfred, "that the Strawberry wojdd be useful; she has the eye of a falcon." It was not till another half-hour had elapsed that the spot where they had left the trail, which, to deceive those who might pursue them, the Indians had rettn'ned upon, was discovered, and then they started again, and proceeded with caution, led by the Strawberry, until she sto[)ped and spoke to Malachi in the Indian tongue, pointing at a small twig broken upon one of the bushes. " That's true, let us see if it happens again." In a few moments the Strawberry pointed out another. 2i() )A the side of the c party joined tr; 5 1 had been wbii-ry was not lis*^vibuting th ; ap' lin S aclair, V MS very active rt was smitten ch was settled was arr.ingcd, he Indian girl ; it she had re- course of the As was agreed, ewly-discovered ival at a clear very short and vcr to the other )in fall in with lot discover it, listle from the where the trail he Strawberry, le track of the ic examination ; ey have left the led Malachi to ul ; she has the sd that the spot 3eive those who rned upon, was proceeded with j>ped and spoke at a small twig out another. THE SETiLKUS IN CANADA "Then all's right," said Malachi,"! said that she could help uj again if she chose, and so she has. The Indian woman who wrote the letter," continued Malachi, turning to Captaii'. Sinclair and Alfred, "Is our friend still. je, sir, she has, wherever she has dared to do it without '>«>.. f seen by the Indians, broken down a small twig as a gu ^t to us. Now, it she has continued to do this, we shall not havj much tn.uble." They contiiujed their course through the woods until the sun went down, and they could sec no longer, having m.uie a journey of about nine miles irom the settlement. They then lay down for the night under a large tree ; the weather was very warm, and they did not light a (ire, as they had some cooked provisions. The next morning, as soon ' l"- was daylight, they made a hasty meal, and resumed th' r ik. The trail was now pretty clear, and was occasi( jllv rified by the breaking of a twig as before. This da'* 'r made sixteen miles' journey, and at the close of it they a •■, ed at the borders of a lake about ten miles long, and from one and a half to two wide ; the trail went right on 1* th^ shore of the lakt>, and then disappeared. "Here they must have taken to the water," said Alfred; " but what means have they had to cross ? " "That we nmst discover, somehow or another, sir," replied Malachi, "or else we shall not find the trail again; perhaps, however, we shall set to-morrow morning ; it is too dark now to attempt to find out, and we may do more harm than good by tracking down the bank. We must bring to for the night. There is a high rock there on the beach farther up; we had better go there, as we can light a fire behind the rock with- out being discovered by it, sup])osiug the Indians are on the o[)posite shore ; and to-night we nuist cook all our provisions if we possibly can, for, depend upon it, we have travelled faster to-day thaii they cm have done with the young lady, and if we can once get well on the trail again, we shall soon be up with them." ^'(lod grant that we may!" exclaimed Captain Sinclair; "the idea of what poor Mary must sulfer, almost drives me mad." " Yes, sir, she will be terribly foot-soro, I have no " You are right, Malachi," replied Alfred. "Sinclair, you must curb your impatience." "I must, I believe," replied Captain Sinclair; "but it will be a tedious liour for me. Let us pass it away in making our arrangements ; we have but six to deal with." "And only two riHes," replied Alfred; "so we arc pretty sure of success." "We must watch Hrst," said Martin, "to see if they all con- tinue in the same lodge, for if they divide, we must arrange accordingly. Who will remain with the prisoners.''" " I won't," said John, in a positive manner. " You must, John, if it be decided that you do," said Alfred. " IJetter not, sir," replied Malachi ; "for as soon as the boy hears the crack of the riHes, he will leave his prisoners, and join us ; that I'm sure of. No, sir, the Strawberry can be left with the prisoners. I'll give her my hunting-knife ; that will be sufficient." They remained for about half-an-hour more watching the lodges, but everything appeared quiet, and not a single person came out. Having examined the priming of the rifles, every man was directed to take up a certain position, so as to sur- round the buildings and support each other. John was appointed to the office of looking after his cousin Mary, and ])reventing the women from escaping with her from the lodge in which she was confined ; and John took his office willingly, as he considered it one of importance, although it had been given him more with a view that he might not be exposed to danger. Leaving the prisoners to the charge of the Strawberry, who, with her knife drawn, stood over them, ready to act upon the slightest attempt of escape on their part, the whole party now crept softly toward the lodges, by the same path as had been taken by Malachi and the Indian woman. As soon as 2C0 v^ • ADA 11(1 may li'oiil>Ic us n Sinclair, an ho(ir and a li.ilf liitik that as tliey irt'tl from carrying y, ifo to sleoj), as e tile best time for ■d. "Sinclair, you clair ; " but it will way in makini? our 'so we are pretty see if they all con- , we must arrange isoners ? " er. •u do/' said Alfred, as soon as the boy his prisoners, and vvberry can be left g-knife ; that will nore watching the not a single person >f the rifles, every ion, so as to sur- )ther. John was cousin Mary, and ler from the lodge lis office willingly, lough it had been not be exposed to of the Strawberry, ready to act upon t, the whole party same path as had man. As soon as f 'I ■ ^ 1 i ■'* c»^4.>i' fiMf. TIIK SF/I"i -KHS IN CANADA Pn nU'cl in Pans they had all arrivt'd, they wailid lor a i'vw minutes, while Malaehi reconnoitred, and Mh. ^o N? A f/. z ■^ '^ 1.0 I.I 28 3.2 ■ 50 IIM IIIIM |M 1.8 L25 !||||u 111.6 m e /A /: 7 /^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 93 WiST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. U580 (716)873-4503 \ ^ ^ :\ \ N ^ 1:1 V i t\ ■ ■I' i ■ ''Si !!•■ ! i ' 11 M-i;i A' t % I THE SETTLERS IN CANADA " No, sir, not much ; the ball has ])assed right through and touched no bone ; so I am in luck. I'll go to the Strawberry, and get her to bind it up." " He is quite dead, sir," said Graves, who was kneeling by the side of the soldier who had been shot by the first rifle. " Poor fellow ! " exclaimed Alfred. " Well, I'm not sorry that they commenced the attack upon us ; for I do not know whether I could have used my rifle unless they had done so." "They never expected quarter, sir," said Malachi. " I suppose not. Now, what are we to do with the women."* They can do no harm." " Not much, sir ; but, at all events, we must j>ut it out of their power. We must take possession of all the weapons we can find in the lodges. VV^e have their two rifles ; but we must collect all the bows and arrows, ♦:omahawks, and knives, and either destroy or keep possession of them. John, will you look to that } Take Graves with you." " Yes," replied John, who Avith Graves, immediately com- menced his search of the lodges. The two women, who had been in the lodge with Mary Percival, had remained where they were, as John's rifle had kept them from leaving the lodge ; but the other two had escaped into the woods during the affray. This was of little consequence ; indeed, the others were told that they might go away, if they would ; and as soon as they heard this fro\n Malachi, they followed the example of their companions. John and Graves brought out all the arms they could find, and Malachi and Alfred th« n went to the bushes to which Mary Percival and Sinclair had previously retired. Alfred embraced his cousin, who was still too greatly agitated to say much, being almost over[)owered by the sudden tr.ansition in all her thoughts and feelings : — and, in the variety of her emotions, perhaps the most bewildering was that occasioned by the re-appearance of Percival, — like a restoration from the dead. Alfred was in consultation with Malachi, when he perceived the flames bursting out of the lodges. Martin, as soon as his wound was dressed, had returned and set fire to them. " It's all right, sir," said Malachi ; " it will leave the proof of our victory, and be a caution to other Indians." 26'2 THE SETTLERS IN CANADA imedijitcly com- " But what will become of the women ? " "Tlieywill join some other band, sir, and tell the story. It is better that they should." "And our prisoners, what shall we do with them .'' " " Release them ; by-and-by, sir, we shall have nothing to fear from them ; but we will first take them two or three days' march into the woods, in case they have alliance with any other band whom they mii»ht call to their assistance." " And the wounded Indians ? " " Must be left to Providence, sir. We cannot take them. We will leave them provisions .and water. The women will come back and find them; if they are alive, they will look after them ; if dead, bury them. But here comes John, with some bears' skins which he has saved for Miss Mary ; that was thoughtful of the boy. As soon as the Hames are down, we will take up our (piarters in the clearing, atid set a wat(?h for the night; and to-morrow, with the help of God, we will commence our journey back. We shall bring joy to your father and mother, and the sooner we do it the better ; for they must be anything but comfortable at our long absence." "Yes," said Mary Percival; "what a state of suspense they nuist be in ! Trul}', as the Bible saith, ' Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.' " \ CHAPTER XXXIX JN OT one of the party slept much on this night. There was much to do, and much to be looked after. Captain Sinclair, as it may be sup{)osed, was fully occupied with Mary Percival, of whom more anon. As soon as they had taken up their position in the clearing, and made arrangements for the accommodation of Mary, they relieved the Strawberry from her charge of the prisoners, whom they brought to the clearing, and made to sit down close to them. Percival, who had not yet been freed from his bonds, was now untied, and suffered to walk about, one of the men keepir.g close to him, and watching him carefully. The first object which caught his eye, was the body of the Angry Snake. Percival looked on it for sonie time, and then sat down by the side of it. 26s 1 ■ '. ^ >W^ s ) X i ! ! ■ I ,IS' I L'l ? 1 * |: m 1 > j ' [1 J ■ ■ { • L b! ' '?', THE SETTLERS IN CANADA There he remained for more than two hours, without speak- ing, when a hole having been dug out by one of the party, the body was put in and covered up. Percival remained a few minutes by the side of the grave, and then turned to the two wounded Indians. He brouglit tliem water, and spoke to them in the Indian tongue ; but while he was still with them, Mary sent for him to speak with him, for as yet she had scarcely seen him. The sight of Mary aj)peared to have a powerful effect upon the boy ; he listened to her as she soothed and caressed him, and appearing to be overcome with a variety of sensations, lie lay down, moaned, and at last fell fast asleep. The soldier who liad been shot by the Angry Snake was buried before they buried the chief. Martin's wound had been dressed by his wife, the Strawberry, who was very skilful in Indian sm'gery. She had previously applied cataplasms made from the bruised leaves which she and the Indian woman had sought for, to tjie feet of Mary Percival, which were in a state of great inflanniiation, and Mary had found herself already much relieved by the application. Before the day dawned, the two Indians who had been wounded were dead, and were immediately buried by the side of the chief. Alfred and Malachi had resolved to set off the next morn- ing on their return home, if they found it possible to convey Mary Percival ; but their party was now reduced, as one of the soldiers had been killed, and Martin was incapable of service. The Indian woman would also be fully loaded with the extra rifles, the two which they had captured from the Indians, the one belonging to the soldier, and Martiii's, who could not carry anything in his j)resent state. They were now only six effective men, as John could not be of much use in carrying, and, moreover, was appointed to watch Percival. Tiien they had the two prisoners to take charge of, so that they Avere somewhat embarrassed. Malachi, however, proj)osed that they should make a litter of boughs, welded together very tight, and suspended on a pole so as to be carried between two men. Mary Percival was not a very great weight, and, by relieving each other continually, they would be .able to get some miles every day, till Mary was avcII enough to walk with them. Alfred 2()4 THE SETTLERS IN CANADA assented to this, and, as soon as it was dayli^jlit, went into the woods with Malachi, to assist liim in cutting the boughs. On their return, tliey found that all the rest of the i)arty were up, and that Mary felt little or no pain. They niade their breakfast on their salt provisions, which were now nearly expended, and as soon as their meal Avas over, they put Mary upon tiie litter and set off, taking the Indian prisoners with them, as they thought it not yet advisable to give them their liberty. The first day they made but a few miles, as they were obliged to stop, that they might procure some food. The party were left under a large tree, which was a good landmark, under the charge of Captain Sinclair, while Malachi and Alfred went in search of game. At night- fall they returned with a deer which they had killed, when the Strawberry informed them that the Indian woman had told her, that about two miles to the southward there was a river which ran into the lalce, and that there were two canoos belonging to the band, hauled up in the bushes on the beach ; that the river was broad and swift, and would soon take them to the lake, by the shores of which they could paddle the canoe to the settlement. This appeared worthy of consideration, as it would in the end, perhaps^ save time, and at all events allow Mary Percival to recover. They decided that they would go to the river, and take the canoes, as the Indian woman said that they were large enough to hold them all. The next morning, guided by the Indian woman, they set off in the direction of the river, and arrived at it in the afternoon. They found the canoes, which were large, and in good order, and having carried them down to the beach, they resolved to put off their embarkation till the following day, as they were again in want of j)rovisions for their subsistence. Alfretl, Malachi, and John went out this time, for Percival had shown himself so quiet and contented, and had gradually become so fond of being near Mary Percival, that he appeared to have aw.akened from his Indian dream, and renewed all his former tissociations. They did not, therefore, think it necessary to watch him any more — indeed, he never would leave Mary's side, and began now to ask many questions, which proved that he had recalled to nn'nd nmch of what had been forgotten diu'ing his long sojoiu'n with the Indians. The '265 I i ' ll ' , ) : 'l-'W .m I'f'Mt THE SETTLERS IN CANADA hunters returned, liaving been very successful, and loaded with meat enoujj;h to last for four or five days. At daylight the next morning, they led the prisoners about half a mile into the Avoods, and, pointing to the north as to the direction they were to go, cast loose the deer-thongs which confined them, and set tliein at liberty. Having done this, they embarked in tlu^ canoes, and were soon gliding rapidly down the stream. The river upon which they end)arked, at that time little known to the I'iUropeans, is now called the river Thames, and the town built upon it is named London. It falls into the uj>por j)art of Lake Ontario, and is a fine rapid stream. For three days they paddled their canoes, disembarking at night to sleep and cook their provisions, and on the fourth they were compelled to stop, that they might procure more food. Tiiey were successful, and on the next day they entered the lake, about two hundred miles to the west of the settlement. Mary Percival was now quite recovered, and found her journey or voyage deliglitful ; the country was in full beauty ; the trees waved their boughs down to the river- side, and they did not fall in with any Indians, or jierceive any lodges on the bank. Sometimes they started the deer which had come down to drink in the stream, and on one occasion, as they rounded a point, they fell in with a herd which were in the water swimming across, and in this position they destroyed as many as they recpiired for their food till they hoped to arrive at the settlement. Percival was now (piite reconciled to his removal from an Indian life, and appeared most anxious to rejoin his father and mother, of whotn he talked incessantly ; for he had again recovered his English, which, strange to say, although he perfectly understood it when spoken to, he had almost forgotten to pronounce, and at first spoke with difficulty. The weather was remarkably fine, and the waters of the lake were so smooth, that they made rapid progress, although they invariably disembarked at night. The only annoyance they had was from the musquitoes, which rose in clouds as soon as they landed, and were not to be dispersed until they had lighted a very large fire, accompanied with thick smoke ; but this was a trifle compared with their joy at the happy deliverance of the prisoners, and success of their 266 THE SETTLERS IN CANADA r \, and loaded At daylight Lit half a mile > the direction hich confined •ne this, they ; rapidly down lat time little river Thames. It falls into rapid stream. >eml)arking at on the fourth prooiu'e more ext day they he west of the ccovered, and :;ountry was in n to the rivcr- is, or perceive rted the deer n, and on one with a herd n this position heir food till noval from an oin his father • he had again although he had almost vith difficulty. 3rs of the lake ress, although nly annoyance i in clouds as sj)ersed until cd with thick their joy at iccess of their expedition. Most grateful, indeed, were they to God for His mercies, and none more so than Mary Pcrcival and Captain Sinclair, who never left her side till it was time to retire to rest. On the sixth day, in the forenoon, they were delighted to perceive Fort Frontignac in the distance, and although the house at the settlement was hid from their sight by the ])()int covered with wood which intervened, they knew that tluy were not above four or five miles distant. In less than another hour, they were abreast of the pr.iirie, and landed at the sj)ot where their own punt was moored. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell had not perceived the canoes, for, although anxiously looking out every day for the return of tlx^ party, their eyes and attention were directed on land, not having any idea of their return I)y water. "My dear Alfred," said Mary, "I do not thiidv it will be prudent to let my aunt see Pcrcival at once ; we nnist |)npare her a little for his ajipearance. She has so long considered him as dead, that the shock may be too great." " You say true, my dear Mary. Then we will go forward with Captain Sinclair and Malachi, and .lohn. Let Pereival be jmt in the middle of the remainder of the ])ariy, who nuist follow afterward, and then be taken up to Malaehi's lodge. He can remain there with the Strawberry until we come and fetch him." Having made these arrangements, to which Pcrcival was with difficulty made to agree, they walked up as proposed, to the house. Outside of the palisade, they perceived Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, with their backs toward tliem, looking toward the forest, in the direction which the party had taken when they left. But when they were half-way from the beach, Henry came out with Oscar from the cottage, and the dog, immediately perceiving them, bounded to them, barking with delight. Henry cried out, " Father — mother, here they are, — here they come." Mr. and Mrs. Campbell of course turned round, and beheld the ])arty advancing ; they flew to meet them, and as they caught Mary in their arms, all explanation for a time was unnecessary — she was recovered, and that was sufficient for the time. ''Come, mo+^'ier, let us go into the house, that you may compose yourself a little," said Alfred, — that she might not 2()7 J II 9 ■ w-"^ L 1 k : i- ■'1 ■'; . 1 1 ! 1 ' 1 1 • j * < i !■' k4 I'ff: 1 fcyJ THE SETTLERS IN CANADA perceive Pcrcival amoii'r tlie party that followed at a distance. ''Let me support you. 'Jake my arm." Mrs. Cam])l)ell, who trembled very much, did so, and thus turned away from the ^roup amonj^ whom l*ercival was walking. Emma was lookinjjf at them attentively, and was about to exclaim, when C'aptain Sinelair put his finder to his lips. As soon as they arrived at the house, and had j:;one in, Alfred, in a few words, (rave them an account of what had passed — how successful they had been in their attem})t, and liow little they had to fear from the Indians in future. "How grateful I am!" exclaimed Mrs. Camj)bell. ''Clod be jiraised for all His mercies! I was fearful that I should have lost you, my dear Mary, as well as my poor boy. He is lost for ever — but (Jod's will be done." "It is very strange, mother," said Alfred, "but wc lieard, on oin* journey, that the Indians had found a white boy in the woods." "Alas ! not mine." " I have reason to believe that it was Percival, my dear mother, and have hopes that he is yet alive." " My dear Alfred, do not say so unless you have good cause ; you little know the yearnings of a mother's heart ; the very suggestion of such a hope hfis thrown me into a state of agitation and nervousness of which you can form no conception. I have been reconciled to the Divine will ; let me not return to a state of anxiety and repining." " Do you think, my dear mother, that I would raise such hopes if I had not good reason to suppose that they would be realised .'' No, my dear mother, I am not so cruel." "Then you know that Percival is alive.'*" said Mrs. Camp- bell, seizing Alfred by the arm. Calm yourself, my dear mother, I do know — I am certain that he is alive, and that it was he who w«as found by the Indians ; and I have great hopes that we may recover him." " God grant it ! God grant it in His great mercy ! " said Mrs. Camjjbell, " my heart is almost breaking with joy : may God sustain me ! Oh, where is he — my dear Alfred — where is he.''" continued Mrs. Campbell. Alfred made no reply, but a flood of tears came to her relief. " I will explain it to you when you are more composed, 268 \i I at a distance. •cival, my dear TllK Sr/riLKKS IN CANADA my dear mother. J'Lmma^ you liave not said one word to »» me. " I liavc been loo nuieh ovtrjoyec! to spiak, AHVrd," replied J'-iuma, extending- lier li.nid to liim, ** but no oiiu weleomes yoiu' return more sinet;rcly tlian I do, and no one is more grateful to you for having brought Mary back." "Now, Allred, I am cahu," said Mrs. Campbell, " st) let me hear at onee all you know." " I see you are cahn, my (kar mother, anil I therefore now tell you that I'ereival is not far olK" " Alfred ! he is here ; 1 am sure he is." " He is with Malachi and the Strawberry ; in a minute I will bring him." Alfred left the house : the intelligence was almost too overpowering for Mrs. Campbell. Mary and Knnna hastened to her, and supported her. In another minute Alfred returned with Percival, and the mother end)race(l and wept over her long-lost child, — and then gave him to his father's arms. " How this has happened, and by what merciful inter- ference he has been preserved and restored to us," said Mr. Campbell, when their first emotions were over, " we have yet to learn ; but one thing we do know, and are sure of, that it is by the goodness of (iod alone. Let us return our thanks while our hearts are yet warm with gratitude and love, and may our thanksgiving be graciously received." Mr. Campbell kneeled down, and his example was followed by all the rest of the party assembled. In a fervent tone he returned thanks for the recent mercies vouchsafed to his family, which, he expressed a hope, would never be forgotten, but would prove a powerful inducement to them all, to lead a more devout life of faith in Him who had so graciously supported them in the hour of peril and affliction, — who had so wonderfully restored to them their lost treasures, aiul turned all their gloom into sunshine, — filling their hearts with joy and gladness, " And now, my dear Alfred," said Mrs. Campbell, whose arms still encircled the neck of Percival, " do pray tell us what has taken place, and how^ you recovered Mary and this dear boy." Alfred then entered into his detail, first stating the 269 i 1 Ml 1I ViV 'i 'J i fi 'r \< 'I 'I'll 'i 1. 1 11^ fii I ^ It < TIIK SKTTLKUS IN CANADA kiiowkil^e which ('a))t.'iiii Sinol.-iir, Malachi, and hhiiself had of IVivival beiii^ still in existence (Venn the letter written by the IncUan woman, — the sei/.iu'e and connnenient of the Youn<;- Otter in (ionsecjuencc, which was retaliated by the ab(hictiou of Mary. VVhen he had fniished, Mr. Campbell said — "And poor Martin, where is he, that I may thank him .'' " " He is at his own lod<;e, with the Strawberry, who is dressing his wound ; for we have not beer .able to do so for two or three days, and it has become very |)ainful." " Wc owe him a large debt of gratitude," said Mr. Campbell; "he has suffered much on our account. And your poor man, Caj)tain Sinclair, who fell ! " " Yes," replied Sinclair, " he was one of our best men — but it was the will of Heaven. He lost his life in the recovery of my dear Mary, and I shall not forget his wife ami child, you )Jiay depend upon it." " Now, Mary, let us have your narrative of what passed when you were in company of the Indians, before your rescue." " I was, as you know, gathering the cranberries in the Cedar Swamp, when I was suddenly seized, and something was thrust against my mouth, so that I had no time or j)ower to cry out. My head was then wrapped up in some folds of blanket, by which I was almost sullocated, and I was then lifted up and borne away by two or three men. For a time I kept my senses, but at last the suffocation was so great, that my head swam, and I believe I fainted, for I do not recollect being put down ; yet after a time I found myself lying under a tree, and surrounded by five or six Indians, who were squatted round me. I was not a little terrified, as you may imagine. They neither moved nor spoke for some time ; I endeavoured to rise, but a hand on my shoulder kept me down, and I did not attempt a useless resistance. Soon afterward, an Indian woman brought me some water, and I immediately recognised her as the one whom we had succoured when we found her in the woods. This gave me courage and hope, though her countenance was immovable, and I could not perceive, even by her eyes, that she attempted any recognition ; but reflection convinced me that, if she intended to help me, she was right in so doing. 270 'illK SIVn'LI'US IN CANADA himstlt' li.ul .llcr wrilltn jineut of till! i.itcd by the Ir. Campbell liank him?" jerry, wlio is i to do so tor ul." e," said Mr. ccoimt. And ir best men — is life in tbe jt bis wife and ,f what passed ;, before your ibcrries in the md sometbinj^ time or power i some folds of id I was then In. For a time was so great, for I do not found myself jr six Indians, [tie terrified, as spoke for some Ji my shoulder jless resistance, je some water, whom we bad This gave me ^as immovable, ;yes, that she convinced me Iht in so doing. After I had raised niyscir, and (b'liiik sonic >vat('r, tiic IiuHans had a talk in a low voicf. 1 observed that lliey paid defrr- eiice lo OIK", and I'nuii the description which my father and Alfred had j;iven of the An^iy Snake, I felt sure that it was he. We remained about half-an-hour on this spot, when they rose, and made si<;ns to nie that I was to come with them. Of course 1 could do no «»tlnrwise, and we walked till night came on, when i was, as you may iiiiay hlood curdled at this scene, and how ;;;reat were now my apprehensions for niyself. Why I had heen carried away I knew not, for I was as iy feet in llie water for two or three hours, wliieli brought down the intiam- mation and swelling very uuieh, and I eontrived aftir that to gain some sleep. They carried me one more day, wlien they considered that they had done enough, and I was again ordered to walk ; 1 did so for two days, aiul was then in the same condition as before. A litter was therefore again con- structed, and I was carried till I arrived at the lodges of the Angry Snake and his band. \N hat passed from that time you have heard from Alfred." When Mary Percival had fmishcd lier narrative, they all sat down to suf)per, and it hardly need be said that Mr. Caujpbell did not fail, before they retired lo rest, again to pour forth his thanksgivings to the Almighty for the preser- vation of those who were so dear. The next morning, they all rose in health and spirits. Martin came early to the house with the Strawberry ; his wound was much better, and he received the thanks and condolence of Mr. and Mrs. Campbell. When they were at breakfast, Mr. Campbell said, "John, in our joy at seeing your brother and cousin again, I quite forgot to scold you for running away as you did." *^Then don't do it now, sir," said Malachi, "for he was very useful, I can assure you." "No, I won't scold him now," replied Mr. Campbell ; "but he must not act so another time. If he had confided to me his anxious wish to join you, I should probably have given my permission." " I must now take my leave, and return to the fort," .said Captain Sinclair ; " I do, however, trust I shall see you all again in a few days, but I nmst report the results of the ex- j)edition, and the death of poor Watkins. May I borrow one of your horses, Mr. Campbell ? " "Certainly," replied Mr. Campbell ; "you know the bateau 27.3 s V ',' > -v.».. • i' revcnt any future repining, if we have felt .iny, at our present position. The misery wc have been rescued from has shown us how much we have to be thankful for. We have nothing more to fear from the Indians, and I feel as if I co'dd now pass the remainder of my life here in peace and thankfulness." " Not without Captain Sinclair ? " " Not always without him ; the time will, I trust, come when I may reward him for his patience and his regard for me ; but it has not yet come ; and li t; for my uncle and aunt to decide when it shall. Where's Percival.'*" " He is gone into the woods with Malachi, and with a rifle on his shoulder, of vhich lie is not a little proud. John is not at all jealous. He says that Percival ought to know how to fire a rifle, and throw aw.ay that foolish bow and arrow. Do you not think that his residence among the Indians has made a great change in Percival .? " " A very great one ; he is more manly and more taciturn ; he appears to think more and talk less. But Henry is beckoning to us. Dinner is ready, and we must not keep hungry people waiting." " No," repMed Emma ; " for in that case I should keep myself waiting." CHAPTER XL Captain Sinclair on his return to Fort Frontignac reported to the Colonel the successful rcsidt of the expedi- tion, and was warmly congratulated upon it, as the Colonel 274 L I should keep THE SETTLERS IN CANADA had been made acquainted with the eiip'i<;cment between him and Mary Percival. Tlie Young (Hter, who had re- mained in confinement during Caj)tain Sinclair's absence, wai now set at liberty ; and the Colonel, who was aware that Captain Sinclair must be very anxious to remain at the settle- ment for a short time after what had occurred, very kindly offered him leave for a few days, which it may be supposed Captain Sinclair did not fail to avail himself of. The Colonel at the same time sent a message to Mr. Campbell, stating that as soon as the bateaux should arrive from Montreal, he woidd bring any letters or newspaj)ers that might arrive for them, and take that opportunity of offering in person his congratulations. Captain Sinclair did not, however, return for two or three days, as he had many letters to write in answer to those which had arrived during his absence. On his return to the settlement, he found them all well and happy ; Mary quite recovered from her fatigue, and everything going on in the same quiet order and method as if the expedition had never taken place, and had never been necessary. Indeed, nothing appeared now wanting to the happiness of the whole party, and their affairs were prospering. The emigrants who had joined Mr. Campbell were industrious and intelligent, very civil, and very useful. They paid the greatest respect to Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, who were certainly very liberal and kind to them, assisting them in every way in their power. Although the farm had been so much increased, the labour was light, from the quantity of hands they could command ; the stock had increased very fast ; old Graves had taken charge of the mill during the absence of Alfred and Martin, and had expressed his. wish to continue in that emj)loyment, which Alfred gladly gave up. In short, peace and plenty reigned in the settlement, and Alfred's words when he re- commended his father to go to Canada, had every prospect of becoming true — that his father would be independent, if not rich, and leave his children the same. In three days Captain Sinclair arrived ; he was received with great warmth by all the party, and after dinner was over, Mr. Campbell addressed the family as follows ; — " My dear children, your mother and I have had some conversation on one or two points, and we have come to the 275 !■• !i : li i"Aw / i ! Il' 'I'i I 'ifcl|jM THE SETTLERS IN CANADA decision that having so much to thank God for, in His kind- ness and mercies shown towards us, it would be sel^.sh on our parts if we did not consult the hapj)iness of others. We are now independent, and with every prospect of being more so every day ; we are no longer isolated, but surrounded by those who are attached to us and will protect us should there be any occasion. In short, we are living in comfort and security, and we trust to Providence that we shall continue so to do. You, my dear Alfred, generously .abandoned your profession to which you were so partial, to come and protect us in the wilderness, and we knew too well the value of your services not to accept them, although we were fully aware of the sacrifice which you made ; but we are no longer in the wilderness, and no longer require your strong arm and bold heart. We have therefore decided that it is our duty no longer to keep you from the profession to which you belong, but, on the contrary, to recommend you now to rejoin and follow up your career, which we trust in God may prove as prosj)erous as we are convinced it will be honourable. Take our best thanks, my dear boy, for your kindness to us, and now consider yourself at liberty to return to England, and rejoin the service as soon as you please. " And now I must address you, my dear Mary ; you and you '"ter accompanied us here, and since yo-: have been with us, HVf cheered us during our stay by your attentions cand unw r • od cheerfulness under all the privations which we at first nad to encounter. You have engaged the affections of an honourable and deserving man, but at the same time have never shown the least disposition to leave us ; indeed, we know what your determination has been, but your aunt and I con- sider it our present duty to say, that much as we shall regret to part with one so dear, you must no longer sacrifice yourself for us, but make him happy who so well deserves you. That you will remain here is of course out of the question : your husband's connections and fortune require that he should return to England, and not bury himself in the woods of Canada. You have therefore our full permission, and I may say, it will be most pleasing to us, if you no longer delay your union with Captain Sinclair and follow your husband ; when- ever and wherever you go, you will have our blessing and our prayers, and the satisfaction of knowing that you have 216 .vi^ THE SETTLERS IN CANADA been to us JU; a dutifiil (lanu;htei% ami that we love you as dearly as it is possible for parents to do. Take licr, Caj)taiii Sinclair, from my liands^ and take with her our blessings ami best wishes for your happiness, which I do not doubt will be as great as we can expect in this checkered world ; for a dutiful daughter will always become a good wife. " Mary, who was sitting between Mrs. Campbell ami Captain Sinclair, fell upon her aunt's neck and wept ; Mr. Campbell extended his hand to C'a})tain Sinclair, who ex})ressed in return his warmest thaidvs and gratitude. Alfred, who had said no- thing more, went up to his mother and kissed her. " I wish you to go, Alfred," said his mother ; " I wish you to rejoin a service to which you are a credit. Do not believe otherwise, or that I shall grieve too much at your departure." " Go, my son," said Mr. Campbell, shaking him by the hand, "and let me see you a post-captain before I die." Mrs. Canjpbell now took Mary Percival into the next room, that she might compose herself, and Cai)tain Sinclair ventured to follow. Every one apj)eared happy at this announcement of Mr. Campbell except Ennna, who looked unusually serious. Alfred, perceiving it, said to her, " Emma, you are very grave at the idea of losing Mary, and I do not wonder at it, but you will have tme consolation, — you will lose me too, ami I shall no longer plague you as you continually complain that I do." "I never thought of that," replied Emma, half angry; " well, you arc a great plague, and the sooner you go " Emma did not, however, finish her speech, but left the room, to join her sister. Now that Mr. Campbell had announced his wishes, the subject of Mary's marriage and Alfred's return to the service was, for a few days, the continual subject of discussion. It was decided that Mary should be married in a month, by the chap- Iain of the fort, who had returned, and that Captain Sinclair, with his wife and Alfred, should leave the settlement at the end of September, so as to arrive at Quebec in good time for sailing before the winter should set in. It was now the last week in August, so that there was not much time to pass away previous to their departure. Captain Sinclair returned to the fort, to make the Colonel acquainted with what had passed, and to take the necessary steps for leave of absence, and his return 277 . rii: ,1 ! r': yf I. ■' THE SETTLERS IN CANADA to England. This, Ironi liis interest with the Governor, he was sure to obtain, and when in Fin^land^ it wouhl he time sntHeient to tlecide whether he should leave that service or exchange into some regiment at home. As every prospect of war or disturbance in Canada was now over, he coukl take either step without any censure being laid upon him. A week afterward, the /uihaiix arrived from Montreal, and the Colonel antl Caj)lain Sinclair made their appearance at the settlement, bringing with them the letters and papers from England. Having received the congratulations of the Colonel, Mr. and Mrs. (,'ampbell, with his permission, opened their letters, for all the family were [iresent, and all, as usual, anxious to hear the news. The (irst letter Mr. Campbell opened, to the surprise of all, produced an innnediate change in his coun- tenance. He read it a second time, and laying it down on his knee, aj>peared to remain in a state of complete abstraction. *' No bad news, I hope, Campbell.''" said his wife anxiously, as all the rest looked upon him Avith astonishment. "No, my dear Emily, no bad news, but most unexpected news ; such as it has been my fortune in life to receive once before this time. You remember, although years have since passed, the letter that was brought to us in our little parlour " "Which put you in possession of Wexton Hall, Campbell." *' Yes, I did refer to that ; but I will not keep you all in longer suspense. This is but a counterpart of the former letter." Mr. Campbell then read as follows : — "May 7, 18—. " Dear Sni, — It is with great pleasure that we have again to connimnicate to you that you may return, as soon as you please, and take possession of the Wexton Hall property. " You may remember that many months back Mr. Douglas Campbell received a fall from his horse when hunting. No serious consequences were anticipated, but it appears that his spine was injured, and after some months' close confinement, he expired on the 9th of April. As Mr. Douglas Campbell has left no issue, and you are the next in tail, you have now undisputed possession of the property which you so honour- ably surrendered some years since. 278 jrnor, lie was ime siitHcient or exchange •ft of war or Le either step loiitreal, and araiice at tlie papers from Colonel, Mr. their letters, .1, anxious to )cne(l, to the in his coiin- t down on his abstraction, ife anxiously, It. u unexpected receive once s have since n our little , Campbell." ieep you all t' the former May 7, 18—. e have again soon as you )roperty. Mr. Douglas unting. No ears that his confinement, as Campbell >u have now 1 so honour- THE SETTLEKS IN CANADA "I have taken u[)on myself to act as your agent since Mr. Campboll's decease. Mrs. D, Campbell lias a handsome settle- ment upon the property, which will of course fall in upon her demise. Waiting your connnands, I am, dear sir, yours truly, J. IIahvev." "Mr. Campbell, I congratidate you with all my heart," said the Colonel, rising up, and taking his hanil. "You have proved yourself deserving of such good fortune; Mrs. Camp- bell, I need hardly add that my congratulations extend to you." Surprise at first rendereil Mrs. Campbell mute ; at last she said — "We are in the hands of Him, and do but execute His will. For yom* sake, my dear Caujpbell, ("or Uie children's sake, perhaps, 1 ought to rejoice — we hardly know. That I am happy here, now that n)y children have been restored to me, I confess. I doubt whether that happiness will be in- creased by the return to Wexton Hall ; at all events, I shall leave this place with regret. We have had too many revolu- tions of fortune, Campbell, since we have been united, not to have learned by experience that a peaceful, quiet, and con- tented home is more necessary to our ha))piness than riches." "I feel as you do, Emily," replied Mr. Campbell, ^'but we are growing old, and have been taught wisdom practically, by the events of a checkered life. ()ur children, I perceive, think otherwise — nor do I wonder at it." " I shan't go," said John ; " I shall only be sent to school ; no master shall flog me — I'm a man." "Nor me," cried Percival. The Colonel and Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, as well as the elder portion of the party, could not help smiling at the exclamation of the tAvo boys. They had both played the part of men, and it was but too evident iiow unfitted they would be for future scholastic discipline. " You shall neither of you go to school," replied Mr. Campbell, "but still you must render yourselves fit for your stations in life, by improving your minds, and attending those who will instruct you." It is hard to say whether much real joy was felt by any of the party at the prospect of returning to England. It is true 279 M i'iM: THE SETTLERS IN CANADA that Mary Percival was dcli^litcd at the idea of jiot being so far from her aunt and uncle, and that Einnia was better pleased to be in Enj^land, for reasons wliich she kept to her- self IJut it was not the coniini^ into the large properly which occasioned pleasure to any of them. However, if there was not much pleasure derived from this re-accessiou to property, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell knew their duty too well to hesitate, and every j)reparation Avas connnenced for their return along with yVlfred and Captain Sinclair. John, how- ever, still continued obstinate in declaring that he would not go, and Percival was very much of John's opinion, although he did not speak so plainly. When Mr. and Mrs. Canipbell were alone, the former said to his wife — " I do not know what to do about John. He appears so resolute in his determination not to go with us, that I fear he will run away into the woods at the time of our departure. He is now continually with Malachi and Martin, and appears to have severed himself from the family." *' It is hard to decide, Campbell ; I have more than once thought it would be better to leave him here. He is our yomigest son. Henry will of course inherit the estate, and we shall have to provide for the others out of our savings. Now this property, by the time that John is of age, will be of no inconsiderable value, and by no means a bad fortune for a younger son. He appears so wedded to the woods and a life of nature, that I fear it would only be the cause of con- tinual regret and discontent if we did take him to England ; and if so, what comfort or advantage should we gain by his returning ? I hardly know what to advise." " I have serious thoughts of leaving him here under the charge of Martin and Malachi," replied Mr. Camj)bell. " He would be hapj)y ; by-and-by he would be rich. What could he obtain more in England } But it must be for you to decide, my dear Emily. I know a mother's feelings, and respect them." " I cannot decide at once, my dear husband. I will tirst talk with John, and consult with Alfred and Henry." The result of Mrs. Campbell's communicating with her sons, was a decision that John should remain in Canada, under the charge of Martin and Malachi, who were to superintend 280 V f iiot being so i.'i was better e kept to Iier- firge properly vever, if there ;-aeeessioii to ty too well to eeil for tlieir Joliii, how- lic would not lion, although le former said le appears so that 1 fear he )ur departure. I, and appears jre than once He is our le estate, and f our savings, f age, will be ad fortune for ! woods and a cause of con- to England ; e gain by his re under the ipbell. " He What could e for you to feelings, and I will first nry." ng with her 'anada, under > superintend THE SETTLERS IN CANADA the farm, and watch over him. Martin was to take charge of the farm. Malachi was to be John's companion in the woods, and old Graves, who had their mill under his care, engaged to correspond with Mr. Campbell, and let them know how things went on. When this was settled, John walked at least two inches higher, and promised to write to his mother himself. The Colonel, when he heard the arrangement, pledged himself that as long as he was in command of the fort, he would keep a watchful eye, not only over John, but the whole of the settlement, and communicate occasionally with Mr. Campbell. A month after the receipt of the letter, the whole family, with the excej)tion of John, embarked in two bateaux, and arrived at Montreal, where they remained a day or two, and then proceeded on to Quebec. At Quebec, their agent had alre.idy taken all the cabins of one of the finest ships for their passage, and after a run of six weeks, they once more found themselves at Liverpool, from which town they posted to Wexton Hall, Mrs, Douglas Camp- bell having retired to a pro})erty of lier own in Scotland. We have now finished our tale, and have only to inform our little re ulers what were the after-lives of the Campbell family. Henry did not return to college, but remained with his father and mother at the Hall, employing himself in superin- tending for his father the property to which he afterward succeeded. Alfred was appointed to a ship commanded by Captain Lumley. He soon rose in the service, was highly distinguished as a gallant, clever officer, and four years after his return to England was married to his cousin Emma — at which the reatler will not be surprised. Mary Percival was married to Captain Sinclair, who sold out, and retired upon half-pay, to live upon his estate in Scotland. Percival wont to college, and turned out a very clever lawyer. John remained in Canada until he was twenty ye.ars old, when he came home to see his father and mother. He had grown to six feet four inches high, and was stout in propor- tion. He was a very amusing fellow, and could talk fast 281 :i!i 1 1 " 1 1 ■f 1 :' f < ; 1 . . ^ 1 P i'i '!■ If 1 ! H TFIR SKTTI.KHS IN CANADA cnonpfh, but his cliicf conversation was upon hunting any the fire in >f tlic house y had soint; Fohn a deed roperty, and ilian wife at ^c, respected dietl. 'I'hey state of hfe opriety, not y the other. 1, and but a leir duty in call them — d their duty ; living and ire and good ■4 The "King's Own" Edition of Captain Marryat's Novels. In 19 Volumes, Crown 8vo, cloth, price £3, 6s. 6d. ; or in separate Volumes, price 3s. 6d. each. With original Illustrations drawn specially for this Edition by W. H. Ovekend, Kredkrick Barnard, E. J. Wheeler, and F. W. Hayes, A.R.C.A., re- produced in the highest style of Photogravure by Lemkiuikr, of Paris. 'Vith Introductions to each Volume by W. L. COURTNKV, LL.I). LIST OF THE SERIES. The King's Own. Frank Mildmay ; or, The Naval Officer. Newton Forster. Peter Simple. Jacob Faithful. The Pacha of Many Tales. Japhet in Search of a Father. Mr. Midshipman Easy. The Pirate; and The Three Cutters. The Dog Fiend. 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