■ /- £ CALIFORNIA TAT io.^ Extract from •• In Act defining the Duties of State Librarian, and prescribing Rules tor the government of the State Library," passed April 9, 18-30. $ 3. Books may be taken from the State Library by the Members of the Legislature and its Officers during the .Sessions of the saint! ; and at any time by the Governor, and the Officers of the Executive Department of tins State, who are required to keep their offices at the Seat of Government ; the Justices of Supreme Court, and At- torney ( reneral ; provided, that no person shall be permitted to take or retain from the Library more than two volumes of miscellaneous works at any one time. § 4. The Librarian shall cause to be kept a register of all books issued and returned, at the time they shall be so issued or returned; and none of the books, except the Laws, Journals and Reports of this State, which may be taken from the Library by Members of the Legislature, or its Officers, during the Session, shall be retained more than two weeks ; and all the books taken by the Members of the Legislature, or its Officers of every kind, shall be returned at the close of the Si --ion. ■'>. [f any person injure 01 fail to return any books taken from the Library, within the time prescribed in the foregoing Section, be shall forfeit and pay to the Librarian, for the benefit of the Li- brary, three times the value thereof, or of the set to which it belongs; and before the Controller shall issue his warrant in favor of any Member or Officer of the Legislature, or of this State, for his per diem allowance, or salary, be shall be satisfied that such Member or Officer has returned all book- taken out of the Library by him, and • -ettled all accounts for injuring such books or otherwise. $ 0. All fines and forfeitures accruing under and by virtue ofthis Act, shall lie recoverable by action of debt before any Justice of the I'i ace or < oiirt having jurisdiction of the same, in the name of the People of the Stale of California, for the use of the State Library, and in all such trials, the entries of the Librarian, to be made as hereinbefore described, shall be evidence of the delivery of the book or books, and of the dates thereof; and it shall be his duty to carry tor all L ! ;' THE , # SETTLERS IN CANADA. WRITTEN FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. BT CAPTAIN MARRYAT. "£v. to 1 IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. NEW- YORK : D. AtTLETON & CO., 346 & 348 BROADWAY. M.DCCO.LVI. n THE SETTLERS. CHAPTER I. It was in the year 1794, that an English family went out to settle in Canada. This province had been surrendered to us by the French, who first colo- onized it, more than thirty years previous to the year I have mentioned. It must, however, be recollected, that to emigrate and settle in Canada was, at that time, a very different affair to what it is now. The difficulty of transport, and the dangers incurred, were much greater, for there were no steamboats to stem the currents and the rapids of the rivers ; the Indians were still residing in Upper and many por- tions of Lower Canada, and the country was infested with wild animals of every description— some use- ful, but many dangerous : moreover, the Europeans were fewer in number, and the major portion of them were French, who were not pleased at the country having been conquered by the English. It is true that a great many English settlers had arrived, and had settled upon different farms ; but as the French settlers had already possession of all the best land in Lower Canada, these new settlers were obliged tc go into or toward Upper Canada, where, although the land was better, the distance from Quebec and a i ■-■ "• h THE SETTLERS. Montreal, and other populous parts, was much great- er, and they were left almost wholly to their own resources, and almost without protection. I mention all this, because things are so very different at pres- ent : and now I shall state the cause which induced this family to leave their home, and run the risks and dangers which they did. Mr. Campbell was of a good parentage, but, being the son of one of the younger branches of the family, his father was not rich, and Mr. Campbell was, of course, brought up to a profession. Mr. Campbell chose that of a surgeon ; and after having walked the hospitals (as it is termed), he set up in business, and in a few years was considered as a very able man in his profession. His practice increased very fast ; and before he was thirty years of age he mar- ried. Mr. Campbell had an only sister, who resided with him, for their father and mother were both dead. But about five years after his own marriage, a young gentleman paid his addresses to her ; and although not rich, as his character was unexception- able, and his prospects good, he was accepted. Miss Campbell changed her name to Percival, and left her brother's house to follow her husband. Time passed quickly ; and, at the end of ten years, Mr. Campbell found himself with a flourishing busi- ness, and at the same time with a family to support, his wife having presented him with four boys, of whom the youngest was but a few months old. But, although prosperous in his own affairs, one heavy misfortune fell upon Mr. Campbell, which' wa? the loss of his sister, Mrs. Percival, to whom he was most sincerely attached. Her loss was attended with circumstances which rendered it more painful, as, previous to her decease, the house of business in which Mr. Percival was a partner failed ; and the incessant toil and anxiety which Mr. Percival under- went, brought on a violent lever, which ended in his death. In this state of distress, left a widow with one THE SETTLERS. 7 child oftwo years old, a liitle girl, and with theexpec tation of being shortly again confined, Mrs. Percival was brought to her brother's house, who, with his wife, did all he could to soften down her grief; but she had suffered so much by the loss of her husband, that, when the period arrived, her strength was gone, and she died in giving birth to a second daugh- ter. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, of course, took charge of these two little orphan girls, aud brought them ap with their own children. Such was the state of affairs about ten or eleven years after Mr. Campbell's marriage, when a cir- cumstance occurred as unexpected as it was wel- come. Mr. Campbell had returned from his round of pro- fessional visits ; dinner was over, and he was sitting at the table with his wife and elder children (for it was the Christmas holydays, and they were all at home), and the bell had just been rung for the nurse to bring down the two little girls, and the youngest boy, when the postman rapped at the door, and the parlor-maid brought in a letter with a large black seal. Mr. Campbell opened it, and read as fol- lows : — " Sir : We have great pleasure in making known to you, that upon the demise of Mr. Sholto Camp- bell, of Wexton Hall, Cumberland, which took place on ihe 19th ultimo, the entailed estates, in default of more direct issue, have fallen to you, as nearest of kin ; the presumptive heir having perished at sea, or in the East Indies, and not having been heard of for twenty-five years. We beg to be the first to con- gratulate you upon your accession to real property, amounting to £14,000 per annum. No will has been found, and it has been ascertained that none was ever made by the late Mr. Sholto Campbell. We have, therefore, put seals upon the personal property, and shall wait your pleasure. We can only add, that if in want of professional advice, and 8 THE SETTLERS. not being already engaged, you may command the ser. rices of " Your most obedient, "Hakvey, Paxton, Thorpe, & Co." "What can be the matter, my dear ?" exclaimed Mrs. Campbell, who had perceived most unusual agitation in her husband's countenance. Mr. Campbell made no reply, but handed the let- ter to his wife. Mrs. Campbell read it, and laid it down on the table. " Well, my dear !" exclaimed Mr. Campbell, joy- fully, and starting up from his chair. " It is a sudden shock, indeed," observed Mrs. Campbell, thoughtfully and slowly ; " I have often felt that we could bear up against any adversity. I trust in God that we may be as well able to support pros- perity, by Jar the hardest task, my dear Campbell, of the two." " You are right, Emily," replied Mr. Campbell, sitting down again; " we are, and have long been, happy." " This sudden wealth can not add to our happi- ness, my dear husband, I feel it will rather add to our cares ; but it may enable us to add to the happi- ness of others ; and with such feelings, let us receive it with thankfulness." "Very true, Emily ; but still we must do our duty in that station of life to which it has pleased God to call us. Hitherto I have by my profession been of some benefit to my fellow-creatures; and if in my change ")f condition 1 no more leave my warm bed to relieve their sufferings, at all events, I shall have the means of employing others so to do. We must con- sider ourselves but as the stewards of Him who has bestowed this great wealth upon us, and employ it as may be acceptable to his service." " There my husband spoke as I felt he would," said Mrs. Campbell, rising up and embracing him. THE SETTLERS. if 11 Those who feel as you do can never be too rich." I must not dwell too long upon this portion of my narrative. I shall therefore observe that Mr. Camp- bell took possession of Wexton Hall, and lived in a style corresponding to his increased fortune ; but, at the same time, he never let pass an opportunity of doing good, and in this task he was ably assisted by his wife. They had not resided there three or four years before they were considered as a blessing to all around them — encouraging industry, assisting the unfortunate, relieving the indigent, building almshouses and schools, and doing all in their power to promote the welfare and add to the happiness of those within many miles of the hall. At the time that Mr. Campbell took possession, the estate had been much neglected, and required large sums to be laid out upon it, which would much increase its value. Thus all the large income of Mr. Campbell was usefully and advantageously employed. The change in Mr. Campbell's fortune had also much changed the prospects of his children. Henry, the eldest, who had been intended for his father's profession, was first sent to a private tutor, and afterward to college. Alfred, the second boy, had chosen the navy for his profession, and had embarked on board a fine frigate. The other two boys, one named Per cival, who was more than two years old at the time that they took possession of the property, and the other, John, who had been born only a few months, remained at home, receiving tuition from a young curate who lived near the hall ; while a governess had been procured for Mary and Emma Percival, who were growing up very handsome and intelligent girls. Such was the state of affairs at the time when Mr. Campbell had been about ten years in possession of the Wexton estate, when one day he was called upon by Mr. Harvey, the head of the firm which had announced to him his succession to the property. 10 THE SETTLERS. Mr. Harvey came to inform him that a claimant had appeared, and given notice of his intent to file a bill in chancery to recover the estate, being, as he asserted, the son of the person who had been consid- ered as the presumptive heir, and who had perished so many years back. Mr. Harvey observed, .hat al- though he thought it his duty to make the circum- stance known to Mr. Campbell, he considered it as a matter of no consequence, and in all probability would turn out to be a fraud got up by some petty attorney, with a view to a compromise. He request- ed Mr. Campbell not to allow the circumstance to give him any annoyance, stating that if more was heard of it, Mr. Campbell should be immediately in- formed. Satisfied with the opinion of Mr. Harvey, Mr. Campbell dismissed the circumstance from his mind, and did not even mention it to his wife. But three months had not passed away before Mr. Campbell received a letter from his solicitor, in which he informed him that the claim to the estate was carrying on with great vigor, and, he was sorry to add, wore (to use his own term) a very ugly ap- pearance ; and that the opposite parties would, at all events, put Mr. Campbell to very considerable ex- pense. The solicitor requested Mr. Campbell's in- structions, again asserting, that although it was art- fully got up, he considered that it was a fraudulent attempt. Mr. Campbell returned an answer, in which he authorized his solicitor to take every needful pre- caution, and to incur all necessary expense. On re- flection, Mr. Campbell, although much annoyed, de- termii ed not to make Mrs. Campbell acquainted wilh what was going on ; it could only distress her, he thought, and he therefore resolved for the present to leave her in ignorance. THE SETTLERS. 11 CHAPTER II. After a delay of some months, Mr. Harvey called Upon Mr. Campbell, and stated to him that the claim of the opposite party, so far from being fraudulent as he had supposed, was so clear, that he feared the worst results. It appeared that the heir to the estates, who had remained between Mr. Campbell's title, had married in India, and had subsequently, as it had been sup- posed, died ; but there was full and satisfactory- proof that the marriage was valid, and that the par- ty who claimed was his son. It was true, Mr. Har- vey observed, that Mr. Campbell might delay for some time the restoration of the property, but that eventually it must be surrendered. As soon as Mr. Campbell received this letter, he went to his wife and acquainted her with all that had been going on for some months, and with the reasons which induced him to say nothing to her until the receipt of Mr. Harvey's letter, which he now put into her hands, requesting her opinion on the subject. Mrs. Campbell, after having read the letter, replied — " It appears, my dear husband, that we have been called to take possession of a property, and to hold for many years that which belongs to another. We are now called upon to give it up to the rightful owner. You ask my opinion ; surely there is no occasion to do that. We must of course now, that we know that the claim is just, do as we would be done by." " That is, my dearest, we must surrender it at once, without any more litigation. It certainly has 12 THE SETTLERS. been my feeling ever since I have read Mr. Harvey's letter. Yet it is hard to be beggars." "It is hard, my clear husband, if we may use that term ; but at the same time, it is the will of Heaven. We received the property supposing it to have been our own ; we have, I hope, not misused it during the time it has been intrusted to us ; and, since it pleases Heaven that we should be deprived of it, let us, at all events, have the satisfaction of acting con- scientiously and justly, and trust to him for oar future support." " I will write immediately," replied Mr. Camp- bell, "to acquaint Mr. Harvey, that although I liti- gated the point as long as the claim was considered doubtful, now that he informs that the other party is the legal heir, I beg that all proceedings may be stopped, as I am willing to give immediate posses- sion." " Do so, my dear," replied his wife, embracing him. " We may be poor, but I trust we shall still be happy." Mr. Campbell sat down and wrote the letter of instructions to his solicitor, sealed it, and sent a groom with it to the post. As soon as the servant had closed the door of the room, Mr. Campbell covered his face with his hands. "It is, indeed a severe trial," said Mrs. Campbell, taking the hand of her husband ; " but you have done your duty." "I care not for myself; I am thinking of my chil- dren." " They must work," replied Mrs. Campbell. "Employment is happiness." " Yes, the boys may get on ; but those poor girls ! what a change will it be for them !" " I trust they have been not so badly brought up„ Campbell, but that they will submit with cheerful- ness, and be a source of comfort to us both. Besides, we may not be absolutely beggars." "That depends upon the other party. He may THE SETTLERS. 13 claim all arrears of rent ; and if so, we are more than beggars. However, God's will be done. Shall we receive good, and shall we not receive evil V " There's hope, my husband," replied Mrs. Camp- bell, in a cheering tone ; "let us hope for the best." "How little do we know what is for our good, short-sighted mortals as we are!" observed Mr. Campbell. "Had not this estate come to us, I should, by following up my profession as surgeon in all probability, have realized a good provision lot my children : now, this seeming good turn ot fortune leaves me poor. I am too old now to resume my profession, and, if I did, have no chance of obtaining the practice which I left. You see that which ap- peared to us and every one else the most fortunate occurrence in my life, has eventually proved the contrary." , , "As far as our limited view of things can enable us to judge, I grant it," replied Mrs. Campbell ; "but who knows what might have happened if we had remained in possession? All is hidden from our view. He acts as he thinks best for us ; and it isfoi us to submit without repining. Come, dearest, le' us walk out ; the air is fresh, and will cool youi heated brow." . Two days after this conversation, a letter was re- ceived from Mr. Harvey, informing them that he had made known Mr. Campbell's determination to resign the property without farther litigation ; that the reply of the other party was highly honorable, stat- in°- that it was not his intention to make any claim for the back rents, and requesting that Mr. Campbell and family would consider Wexton Hall at their dis- posal for three months, to enable them to make arrangements, and dispose of their furniture, &c. The contents of this letter were a great relief to the mind of Mr. Campbell, as he was now able to ascertain what his future means might be, and was grateful for the handsome behavior of the new pro- prietor in not making any claim for back rents which Vol. I.— 2 14 THE SETTLERS. would have reduced him at once to penury. He wrote immediately to Mr. Harvey, requesting him to send in his account of legal expenses, that it might be liquidated as soon as possible. In three days it arrived, and a letter with it, in which Mr. Harvey acquainted him, that it was in consequence of his having so handsomely surrendered the property as soon as the claim Avas substantiated, together with the knowledge how much the estate had been im- proved during the ten years in which it had been in his possession, which induced the new proprietor to behave in so liberal a manner. This was very grat- ifying to Mr. Campbell, but the legal expenses proved enormous, amounting to many thousand pounds. Mr. Campbell read the sum total, and threw the huge heap of papers down on the table in despair. "We are still ruined, my dear," said he, mourn- fully. " Let us hope not," replied Mrs. Campbell. "At all events, we now know the worst of it, and we must look it boldly in the face." " I have not so much money as will pay the bill by nearly a thousand pounds, my dearest wife." " It may be so," replied Mrs. Campbell ; " but still there is the furniture, the horses, and carriages ; surely, they are worth much more." " But we have other bills to pay ; you forget them." "No, I do not; I have been collecting them all, and they do not amount to more than £300, as near as I can judge ; but we have no time to lose, dearest, and we must show courage." "What then do you advise, Emily?" said Mr. Campbell. "We must incur no more expense; our present establishment must be dismissed at once. Send for all the servants to-morrow morning, and explain what has occurred. This evening I will make it known to the two girls and Miss Paterson, who must of course be discharged, as we can no longer afford THE SETTLERS. 15 a governess. We must retain only the cook, house- maid, one footman, and a groom to look after the horses until they are sold. Send a letter to Mr. Bates, the auctioneer, to give notice of an early sale of the furniture. You must write to Henry ; of course, he can no longer remain at college. We have plenty of time to consider what shall be our future plans, which must depend much upon what may prove to be our future means." This judicious advice was approved of by Mr. Campbell. Miss Paterson was greatly distressed when the news was communicated to her by Mrs. Campbell. Mary and Emma Percival felt deeply for their kind benefactors, but thought nothing of themselves. As Mrs. Campbell had truly observed, they had been too well brought up. As soon as they were informed of what had happened, they both ran to Mr. Campbell's room, and hung upon his neck, declaring that they would do all they could to make him happy, and work for him, if necessary from morning till night. The next day the whole household were sum moned into the dining-room, and made acquainted by Mr. Campbell with what had taken place, and the necessity of their immediate removal. Their wages had been calculated, and were paid them be- fore they quitted the room, which they all did with many expressions of regret. Miss Paterson request- ed leave to remain with them as a friend for a few days longer, and as she was deservedly a favorite, her request was acceded to. "Thank Heaven, that is over!" said Mr Camp- bell, after a:i tn2 household had been Gismissed. " It is quite a relief to my mind.'' " Here's a letter from Alfred, uncle," said Emma Percival, entering the room. "He has just arrived at Portsmouth, and says the ship is ordered to be paid off immediately, and his captain is appointed to a fifty-gun ship, and intends to take him with him. He says he will be here in a very few days, and" — 16 THE SETTLERS. "And what, dearest?" said Mrs. Campbell. "He says his time will be short, but he hopes you won't object to his bringing two of his messmates down with him." "Poor fellow! I am sorry that he will be disap- pointed," replied Mr. Campbell. " You must write to him, Emma, and tell him what has happened." " I must write to him, uncle ?" "Yes, dear Emma, do you write to him," replied Mrs. Campbell; "your uncle and I have much to attend to." "I will, since you wish me," said Emma, the tears starting in her eyes, as she quitted the room. "Mr. Bates the auctioneer, wishes to see you, sir," said the footman, as he came in. "Request that he will walk in," replied Mr. Campbell." Mr. Bates, the auctioneer, came in, and presented a letter to Mr. Campbell, who requested him to take a chair while he read it. It was from Mr. Douglas Campbell, the new proprietor of the estate, request- ing Mr. Bates would ascertain if Mr. Campbell was willing that the furniture, &c, should be disposed of by valuation, and if so, requesting Mr. Bates to put a liberal value on it, and draw upon him for the amount. " This is very considerate of Mr. Douglas Camp- bell," observed Mrs. Campbell ; " of course, my dear, you can have no objection." "None whatever; return my best thanks to Mr. Douglas Campbell for his kindness ; and Mr. Bates, if you can possibly value by to-morrow or next day, 1 should esteem it a favor." "It shall be done, sir," replied Mr. Bates, who then rose and took his leave. As soon as the valuation was finished, Mr. Camp- bell was enabled to make an estimate of what re- mained to them out of the property, and found that the whole sum amounted to between seventeen and eighteen hundred pounds. THE SETTLERS. 17 CHAPTER III. It may appear strange that after having been in possession of the estate for ten years, and consider- ing that he had younger children to provide for, Mr. Campbell had not laid up a larger sum ; but this can be fully explained. As I before said, the estate was in very bad order when Mr. Campbell came in- to possession, and he devoted a large portion of the income to improving it ; and, secondly, he had ex- pended a considerable sum in building almshouses and schools, works which he would not delay, as he considered them as religious obligations. The con- sequence was, that it was not until a year before the claim was made to the estate, that he had com- menced laying by for his younger children; and as the estate was then worth d£2,000 per annum more than it was at the time that he came into possession of it, he had resolved to put by d£5,000 per annum, and had done so for twelve months. The enormous legal expenses had, however, swallowed up this sum, and more, as we have already slated ; and thus he was left a poorer man bv some hundreds than he was when the property fell to him. The day after the valuation, the eldest son, Henry, made his appearance ; he seemed much dejected, more so than his parents, and those who knew him would have supposed. It was, however, ascribed to his feeling for his father and mother, rather than for himself. Many were the consultations held by Mr. and Mrs. Campbell as to their future plans ; but nothing at all feasible, or likely to prove advantageous, sug- gested itself to them. With only sixteen or seven- 18 THE SETTLERS. teen hundred pounds, they scarcely knew where to go, or how to act. Return to his profession Mr. Campbell knew that he could not, with any chance of supporting his family. His eldest son, Henry, might obtain a situation, but he was really fit for nothing but the bar or holy orders ; and how were they to support him till he could support himself? Alfred, who was now a master's mate, could, it is true, support himself, but it would be with difficulty, and there was little chance of his promotion. Then there were the two other boys, and the two girls growing up fast ; in short, a family of eight people. To put so small a sum in the funds would be useless, as they could not live upon the interest which it would give, and how to employ it they knew not. They canvassed the matter over and over, but with- out success, and each night they laid their heads upon the pillow more and more disheartened. They were all ready to leave the Hall, but knew not where to direct their steps when they left it ; and thus they continued wavering for a week, until they were em- braced by their son Alfred, who had made all speed to join them, as soon as the ship had been paid off. After the first joy of meeting between those who had been separated so long, was over, Mr. Campbell said, " I'm sorry, Alfred, that I could not give your messmates any fishing." "And so am I, and so were they, for your sakes, my dear father and mother; but what is, is — and what can't be helped, can't — so we must make the best of it ; but where's Henry and my cousins ?" " They are walking in the park, Alfred ; you had better join them ; they are most anxious to see you." "I will, mother; let us get over these huggings and kissings, and then we shall be more rational : so good- by for half an hour," said Alfred, kissing his mother again, and then hastening out of the room. "His spirits are not subdued, at all events," ob- *erved Mrs. Campbell. "I thank God for it." Alfred soon fell in with his brother and his cous* THE SETTLERS. ]& ins, Mary and Emma, and after the huggings and kissings, as he termed them, were over, he made in- quiries into the real state of his father's affairs. After a short conversation, Henry, who wae very much depressed in his spirits, said, "Mary and Em- ma, perhaps you will now go in ; I wish to have some conversation with Alfred." "You are terribly out of heart, Harry," observed Alfred, after his cousins had left ihem. " Are things so very bad ?" " They are bad enough, Alfred ; but what makes me so low-spirited is, that 1 fear my folly has made them worse." " How so ?" replied Alfred. "The fact is, that my father has but d£1700 left in the world, a sum small enough ; but what annoys me is this. When I was at college, little imagining such a reverse of fortune, I anticipated my allow- ance, because I knew that I could pay at Christmas, and I ran in debt about d£200. My father always cautioned me not to exceed my allowance, and thinks that I have not done so. Now, I can not bear the idea of leaving college in debt, and, at the same time, it will be a heavy blow to my poor father, if he has to part with c£200, out of his trifling re- mainder, to pay my debt. This is what has made me so unhappy. I can not bear to tell him, because I feel convinced that he is so honorable, he will pay it immediately. I am mad with myself, and really do not know what to do. I do nothing but reproach myself all day, and I can not sleep at night. 1 have been very foolish, but I am sure you will kindly en- ter into my present feelings. I waited till you came home, because 1 thought you had belter tell my father the fact, for I feel as if I should die with shame and vexation." "Look you, Harry," replied Alfred, " as for out- running the constable, as we term it at sea, it's a very common thing, and, all things considered, no great harm done, when you suppose that you have 20 THE SETTLEKS. the means, and intend to pay ; so don't lay that to heart. That you would give your right hand not to have done so, as things have turned out, I really believe : but, however, there is no occasion to fret any more about it. I have received three years' pay, and the prize-money for the last eighteen months, and there is still more due, for a French privateer. Altogether it amounts to c£250, which I had intended to have made over to my father, now that he is on a lee-shore ; but it will come to the same thing, whether I give it to you to pay your debts, or give it to him, as he will pay them, if you do not ; so here it is, take Avhat you want, and hand me over what's left. My father don't know that I have any money, and now he won't know it ; at the same time he won't know that you owe any ; so that squares the account, and he will be as well ofT as ever." " Thank you, my dear Alfred ; you don't know what a relief this will be to my mind. Now I can look my father in his face." " I hope you will ; we are not troubled with such delicate feelings on board-ship, Harry. I should have told him the truth long before this. I couldn't bear to keep anything on my conscience. If this misfortune had happened last cruize, I should have been just in your position; for I had a tailor's bill to pay as long as a frigate's pennant, and not enough in my pocket to buy a mouse's breakfast. Now, let's go in again, and be as merry as possible, and cheer them up a little." Alfred's high spirits did certainly do much to cheer them all up ; and after tea, Mr. Campbell, who had previously consulted his wife, as soon as the servant had quilted the room, entered on a full explanation of the means which were left to them ; and staled, that he wished in his difficulty to put the question before the whole family, and ascertain whether any project might come into their heads upon which they might decide and act. Henry, THE SETTLERS. 21 who had recovered his spirits since the assistance he had received from Alfred, was desired to speak first. He replied : — "My dear father and mother, if you can not be- tween you hit upon any plan, I am afraid it is not likely that I can assist you. All I have to say is, that whatever may be decided upon, I shall most cheerfully do my duty toward you and my brothers and sisters. My education has not been one likely to be very useful to a poor man, but I am ready to work with my hands as well as with my head, to the best of my abilities.*' " That I am sure of, my dear boy," replied his father. "Now, Alfred, we must look to you as our last hope, for your two cousins are not likely to give us much advice." "Well, father, I have been thinking a good deal about it, and I have a proposal to make which may at first startle you, but it appears to me that it is our only and our best resource. The few hundred pounds which you have left are of no use in this country, except to keep you from starving for a year or two; but in another country they may be made to be worth as many thousands. In this country, a large family becomes a heavy charge and expense ; in another country, the more children you have, the richer man you are. If, therefore, you would con- sent to transport your family and your present means into another country, instead of being a poor, you might be a rich man." " What country is that, Alfred ?" "Why, father, the purser of our ship nad a brother, who, soon after the French were beaten out of the Canadas, went out there to try his fortune. He had only three hundred pounds in the world : he has been there now about four years, and I read a letter from him which t.ie purser received when the frigate arrived at Portsmouth, in which he states that he is doing well, and getting rich fast ; that he 22 THE SETTLERS. has a farm of five hundred acres, of which two hun- dred are cleared ; and thai if lie only had some chil- dren large enough to help him, he would soon be worth ten times the money, as he would purchase more land immediately. Land is to bought there at a dollar an acre, and you may pick and choose. With your money, you might buy a large property ; with your children, you might improve it fast ; and in a few years, you would at all events be comforta- ble, it' not flourishing, in your circumstances. Your children would work for you, and you would have the satisfaction of knowing that you left them inde- pendent and happy." " I acknowledge, my dear boy, that you have struck upon a plan which has much to recommend it. Still there are drawbacks." "Drawbacks!" replied Alfred, " yes, to be sure, there are ; if estates were to be picked up for merely going out for them, there would not be many left for you to choose ; but, my dear father, I know no drawbacks which can not be surmounted. Let us see what these drawbacks are. First, hard la- bor ; occasional privation ; a log-hut, till we can get abetter; severe winter; isolation from the world; occasional danger, even, from wild beasts and sava- ges. I grant these are but sorry exchanges for such a splendid mansion as this — fine furniture, excellent cooking, polished society, and the interest one feels for what is going on in our own country, which is daily communicated to us. Now, as to hard labor, I and Henry will take as much of that off your hands as we can : if the winter is severe, there is no want of firewood ; if the cabin is rude, at least we will make it comfortable ; if we are shut out from the world, we shall have society enough among ourselves ; if we are in danger, we will have firearms and stout hearts to defend ourselves ; aud, really, I do not see but we may be very happy, very comfortable, and, at all events, very independent." THE SETTLERS. 23 "Alfred, you talk as if you were going with us," said Mrs. Campbell. " And do you think that I am not, my dear moth- er ? Do you imagine that I would remain here when you were there, and my presence would be useful? No — no— I love the service, it is true, but I know my duty, which is, to assist my father and mother : in fact, I prefer it ; a midshipman's ideas of independence are very great ; and I had rather range the wilds of America free and independent, than remain in the service, and have to touch my hat to every junior lieutenant, perhaps for twenty years to come. If you go, I go, that is certain. Why, I should be miserable if you went without me ; I should dream every night that an Indian had run away with Mary, or that a bear had eaten up my little Emma." " Well, I'll take my chance of the Indian," replied Mary Percival. "And I of the bear," said Emma. "Perhaps he'll only hug me as tight as Alfred did when he came home." " Thank you, miss, for the comparison," replied Alfred, laughing. "I certainly consider that your proposal, Alfred, merits due reflection," observed Mrs. Campbell. " Your father and I will consult, and perhaps by to- morrow morning we may have come to a decision. Now we had better all go to bed." " I shall dream of the Indian, I am sure," said Mary. "And I shall dream of the bear," added Emma, looking archly at Alfred. "And I shall dream of a very pretty girl — that I saw at Portsmouth," said Alfred. "I don't believe you," replied Emma. Shortly afterward xWr. Campbell rang the bell for the servants ; family prayers were read, and all re- tired in good spirits. The next morning they all met at an early hour ; 24 THE bi,TTLERS. and after Mr. Campbell had, as was his invariable rule, read a portion of the Bible, and a prayer of thankfulness, they sat down to breakfast. After breakfast was over, Mr. Campbell said — " My dear children, last night, after you had left us, your mother and I had a long consultation, and we have decided that we have no alternative left us but to follow the advice which Alfred has given: if, then, you are all of the same opinion as we are, we have resolved that Ave will try our fortunes in the Canadas." " I am certainly of that opinion," replied Henry. " And you, my girls ?" said Mr. Campbell. "We will follow you to the end of the world, un- cle," replied Mary, " and try if we can by any means in our power repay your kindness to two poor or- phans." Mr. and Mrs. Campbell embraced their nieces, for they were much affected by Mary's reply. After a pause, Mrs. Campbell said — " And now that we have come to a decision, we must commence our arrangements immediately. How shall we dispose of ourselves ? Come, Alfred and Henry, what do you propose doing ?" "I must return immediately to Oxford, to settle my affairs, and dispose of my books and other prop- erty." " Shall you have sufficient money, my dear boy, to pay everything ?" said Mr. Campbell. " Yes, my dear father," replied Henry, coloring up a little. " And I," said Alfred, " presume that I can be of no use here ; therefore I propose that I should start for Liverpool this afternoon by the coach, for it is from Liverpool that we had better embark. I shall first write to our purser for what information he can procure, and obtain all I can at Liverpool from other people. As soon as I have anything to communi- cate, I will write." " Write as soon as you arrive, Alfred, whether you THE SETTLERS. 25 i have anything to communicate or not ; at all events, we shall know of your safe arrival." "J will, my dear mother." " Have you money, Alfred ?" " Yes, quite sufficient, father. I don't travel with four horses." "Well, then, we will remain here to pack up, Alfred; and you must look out for some moderate lodgings for us to go into as soon as we arrive at Liv- erpool? At what time do the ships sail for Quebec ?" " Just about this time, father. This is March, and they will now sail every week almost. The sooner ■we are off the better, that we may be comfortably housed in before winter." A few hours after this conversation, Henry and Alfred left the hall upon their several destinations. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and the two girls had plenty of employment for three or four days in packing up. It was soon spread through the neighborhood that they were going to emigrate to Canada ; and the tenants who had held their farms under Mr. Camp- bell, all came forward and proffered their wagons and horses to transport his effects to Liverpool, with- out his being put to any expense. In the meantime a letter had been received from Alfred, who had not been idle. He had made ac- quaintance with some merchants who traded to Can- ada, and by them had been introduced to two or three persons who had settled there a few years be- fore, and who were able to give him every informa- tion. They informed him what was most advisable to take out ; how they were to proceed upon their landing; and, what was of more importance, the merchants gave him letters of introduction to Eng- lish merchants at Quebec, who would afford them every assistance in the selecting and purchasing of land, and in their transport up the country. Alfred had also examined a fine timber-ship, which was to sail in three weeks; and had bargained for the price of their passage, in case they could get ready in time Vol. 1.-3 ~ 26 THE SETTLERS. to go by her. He wrote all these particulars to hi9 father, waiting for his reply to act upon his wishes. Henry returned from Oxford, having settled his accounts, and with the produce of the sale of his classics and other books in his pocket. He was full of spirits, and of the greatest assistance to his father and mother. Alfred had shown so much judgment in all he had undertaken, that his father wrote to him staling that they would be ready for the ship which be named, and that he might engage the cabins, and also at once procure the various articles which they were advised to take out with them, and draw upon him fur the amount, if the people would not wait for the money. In a fortnight they were all ready ; the wagons had left with their effects some days before. Mr. Campbell wrote a letter to Mr. Douglas Camp- bell, thanking him for his kindness and consideration to them, and informing him that they should leave Wexton hall on the following day. He only begged as a favor, that the schoolmaster and schoolmistress of the village school should be continued on, as it was of great importance that the instruction of the poor should not be neglected ; and added, that perceiving by the newspapers that Mr. Douglas Campbell bad lately married, Mrs. Campbell and he wished him and his wife every happiness, &c, &c. Having despatched this letter, there was nothing more to be done, previous to their departure from the hall, except to pay and dismiss the few servants who were with them ; for Mrs. Campbell had re- solved upon taking none out with her. That after- noon they walked round the plantation and park for the last time. Mrs. Campbell and the girls went round the rooms of the hall to ascertain that every- thing was left tidy, neat, and clean. The poor girls sighed as they passed by the harp and piano in the drawing-room, for they were old friends. " Never mind, Mary," said Emma, " we have our THE SETTLERS. 27 guitars, and may have music in the woods of Canada without harp or piano." The following morning the coach, of which they had secured the whole of the inside, drove up to the hall door, and they6 hugged by a bear or an Indian, because of two evila one should always choose the least." " Well, then, I see Martin has done no harm, but, on the contrary, he has done good. It is always best to be prepared for the worst, and to trust to Provi- dence for aid in peril." At last all the purchases were completed, and everything was packed up and ready for embarka- tion. Another message from the governor was re- ceived, stating that in three days the troops would be embarked, and also informing Mr. Campbell that if he had not purchased any cows or horses, the offi- cer at Fort Frontignac had more cattle than were requisite, and could supply him ; which, perhaps, would be preferable to carrying them up so far. Mr. Campbell had spoken about, but not finally settled for, the cows, and therefore was glad to accept the governor's offer. This message was accompanied with a note of invitation to Mr. Campbell, the ladies, and Henry and Alfred, to take a farewell dinner at Government house the day before their departure. The invitation was accepted, and Mr. Campbell was introduced to the officer commanding the detach- ment which was about to proceed to Fort Frontig- nac, and received from him every assurance of his doing all he could to make them comfortable. The kindness of the governor did not end here: he de- sired the officer to take two large tents for the use of Mr. Campbell, to be returned to the fort when the bouse had been built, and they were completely set- tled. He even proposed that Mrs. Campbell and the Misses Percival should remain at Government house until Mr. Campbell had made every preparation to receive them ; but this Mrs. Campbell would not consent to, and, with many thanks, she declined the offer. £>6 THE SETTLEl'.a. CHAPTER VII. Although it was now the middle of May, it was but a few days before their departure that there was the least sign of verdure, or the trees had hurst into leaf: hut iu the course of the three days before they quitted Quebec, so rapid was the vegetation, that it appeared as if summer had come upon them all at once. The heat was also very great, although, when they had landed, the weather was. piercing cold ; but" in Canada, as welL as in all northern America, the transitions from heat to cold, and from cold to heat, are very rapid. My young readers will be surprised to hear that when the winter sets in at Quebec, all the animals required for the winter's consumption are at once killed. If the troops are numerous, perhaps three or four hundred bullocks are slaughtered and hung up. Every family kill their cattle, their sheep, pigs, turkeys, fowls, &c, and all are put up in the gar- rets, where the carcases 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 oat with hand-nets upon the ice, where they become in a few minutes frozen quite hard, so that, if )ou wish it, you may break them in half like a THE SETTLERS. 57 rotten stick. The cattle are fed upon these fish du- ring the winter months. But it has been proved, which is very strange, that if, after they have been frozen for twenty-four hours or more, you put these fish into water and gradually thaw them as you do the meat, they will recover and swim about again as well as ever. To proceed, however, with 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 expenditure had been very great. Fir>t, there was the removal of so large a family, and the passage out; then he had procured at Liv- erpool a. large quantity of cutlery and tools, furni- ture, &c, all of which articles were cheaper there than at Quebec. At Quebec he had also much to purchase : all the most expensive portion of his house ; such as windows ready glazed, stoves, boarding for floors, cupboards, and partitions ; salt provisions, crockery of every description, two small wagons 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 ex- penses of living, had taken away all his money, ex- cept the three hundred pounds I have mentioned. It was on the 13th of May that the embarkation took place, and it was not until the afternoon that all was prepared, and Mrs. Campbell and her nieces were conducted down to the bateaux, which lay at the wharf, with the troops all ready on board of them. The governor and his aides-de-camp, be- sides many other influential people of Quebec, es- corted them down, and as soon as they had paid their adieus, the word was given, the soldiers in the bateaux gave three cheers, and away they went from the wharf into the stream. For a short time there was waving of handkerchiefs and other tokens of good-will on the part of those who were on the wharf; but that was soon left behind them, and the 58 THE SETTLERS. family found themselves separated from their ac- quaintances and silently listening to the measured sound of the oars, as they dropped into the water. And it is not to he wondered at that they were si- lent, for all were occupied with their own thoughts. They called to mind the beautiful park at Wexton, which they had quitted, after having resided there .so long and so happily ; the hall, with all its splen- dor and all its comfort, rose up in their remem- brance ; each room with its furniture, each window with its view, was recalled to their memories ; they had crossed the Atlantic, and were now about to leave civilization and comfort behind them — to iso- late themselves in the Canadian woods — to trust tc their own resources, their own society, and their own exertions. It was, indeed, the commencement of a new life, and for which they felt themselves lit- tle adapted, after the luxuries they had enjoyed in their former condition; but if their thoughts and reminiscences made them grave and silent, they did not make them despairing or repining ; they trusted to that Power who alone could protect — who gives and who takes away, and docth with us as he judges best; and if hope was not buoyant in all of them, still there was confidence, resolution, and resigna- tion. Gradually they Avere roused from their reve- ries by the beauty of the scenery and the novelty of what met their sight ; the songs, also, of the Cana- dian boatmen were musical and cheering, and by decrees they had all recovered their usual good spirits. Alfred was the first to shake off his melancholy ieelings and to attempt to remove them from others ; nor was lie unsuccessful. The officer who command- id the detachment of troops, and who was in the same L'lleau with the family, had respected their silence upon their departure from the wharf — per- haps he felt much as they did. His name was Sin- clair, and his rank that of senior captain in the regi- ment — a handsome, Uorid young man, tall and well THE SETTLERS. 59 made, \ery gentleman-like, and very gentle in his manners. "How very beautiful the foliage is on that point, mother," said Alfred, first breaking the silence; " what a contrast between the leaves of the syca- more, so transparent and yellow, with the sun be- hind them, and the new shoots of the spruce fir." " It is, indeed, very lovely," replied Mrs. Camp- bell ; "and the branches of the trees, feathering down as they do to the surface of the water — " "Like good Samaritans," said Emma, " extending their arms, that any unfortunate drowning person who was swept away by the stream might save himself by their assistance." " T had no idea that trees had so much charity or 'eflection, Emma," rejoined Alfred. " I can not answer for their charity, but, by the side of this clear water, you must allow them reflec- tion, cousin," replied Emma. "I presume you will add vanity to their attri- butes ?" answered Alfred ; " for they certainly appear to be hanging over the stream that they may look and admire themselves in the glassy mirror." "Pretty well that for a midshipman; I was not aware that they used such choice language in a cockpit," retorted the young lady. "Perhaps not, cousin," answered Alfred; "but when sailors are in the company of ladies, they be- come 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, is it a village — one, two, three houses— just opening upon us ?" "That is a raft, Miss Percival, which is comincr down the river," replied Capt. Sinclair. " Yru will see, when we are nearer to it, that perhaps it covers 60 THE SETTLERS. wo acres of water, and there are three tiers of tim- Der 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. There are, perhaps, from forty to a hundred people on this raft to guide it down the stream, and the houses you see are built on it for the accommodation of these people. I have seen as many as fifteen houses upon a raft, which will some- times contain the cargoes of thirty or forty large ships." " It is very wonderful how they guide and direct it down the stream," said Mr. Campbell. "It is very dexterous ; and it seems strange that such an enormous mass can be so guided, but it is done, as you will perceive; there are three or four rudders made of long sweeps, and, as you may ob- serve, several sweeps on each side." All the party were now standing up in the stern* sheets of the bateau to look at the people on the raft, who amounted to about fifty or sixty men — now run- ning over the top to one side, and dragging at the sweeps, which required the joint power of seven or eight men to each of them — now passing again over to the opposite sweeps, as directed by the steersmen. The bateau kept well in to the shore, out of the way, and the raft passed them very quickly. As soon as it was clear of the point, as iheir course to Quebec was now straight, and there was a slight breeze down the river, the people on board of the raft hoist- ed ten or fifteen sails upon different masts, to assist thern in their descent ; and this again excited the admiration of the party. The conversation now became general, until the bateaux were made fast to the shores of the river, while the men took their dinners, which had been prepared for them before they left Quebec. After a repose of two hours, they again started, and at night- fall arrived al St. Anne's, where they found every- thing read) for their reception. Although their beds THE SETTLERS. 01 were composed of the leaves of the maize or Indian corn, they were so tired that they found them very comfortable, 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 debarkation ; and it appeared that he had quite won the hearts of the two boys by his amusing anecdotes during th * day. Soon after their embarkation, the name of Pontiac being again mentioned by Capt. Sinclair, Mrs. Camp- bell observed — " 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, Capt. Sinclair, give us any informa- tion relative to a person who appears so well known in the province ?" " I shall be happy, Mrs. Campbell, as far as I am able, to satisfy you. On one point, I can certainly speak with confidence, 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 presence. Pontiac was chief of all the lake tribes of Indians. I will not re- peat the names of the different tribes, but his own particular tribe Avas that of the Ottawas. He ruled at the time that the Canadas were surrendered to us by the French. At first, although very proud and haughty, and claiming the sovereignty of the coun- try, he was very civil to the English, or at least ap- peared so to be ; for the French had given us so bad a reputation with all the northern tribes, that they had hilherto shown nothing but the most determined hostility, and appeared to hate our very name. They are now inclined to quiet, and it is to be hoped their fear of us, after the several conflicts between us, will induce them to remain so. You are, per- haps, aware that the French had built many forts at tfie most commanding spots in the interior and on Vol. I.— 6 62 THE SETTLERS. the lakes, all of which, when they gave up the coun« try, were garrisoned by our troops, to keep the In- dians under control. " All these forts are isolated, and communication between them is rare. It was in 1763 that Pontiac first showed his hostility against us, and his deter- mination, if possible, to drive us from the lakes. He was as cunning as he was brave ; and, as an Indian, showed more generalship than might be expected — that is, according to their system of war, which is always based upon stratagem. His plan of operation was, to surprise all our forts at the same time, if he possibly could; and so excellent were his arrange- ments, 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 thir- teen forts. Of course, the attacks were made by other chiefs, under his directions, as Pontiac could not be at all the simultaneous assaults." " Did he murder the garrisons, Capt. Sinclair V said Alfred. " The major portion of them : some were spared, and afterward were ransomed at high prices. I ought to have mentioned, as a singular instance of the advance of this chief in comparison with the other Indians, that at this time he issued bills of credit on slips of bark, signed with his totem, the otter; and that these bills, unlike many of more civilized society, were all taken up and paid." " That is very remarkable in a savage," observed Mrs. Campbell ; " but how did Pontiac contrive to surprise all the forts V "Almost the whole of them were taken by a sin- gular stratagem. The Indians are very partial to, and exceedingly dexterous at, a game called the 'Bag^atiway :' it is played with a ball and a long- handled sort of racket. They divide into two par- ties, and the object of each party is to drive the ball to their own goal. It is something like hurly in England or golf in Scotland. Many hundreds are THE SETTLERS. t>3 sometimes engaged on both sides; and the Euro- peans are so fond of seeing the activity and dexterity- shown by the Indians at this game, that it was very common to request them to play it, when they hap- pened to be near the forts. Upon this, Pontiac ar- ranged his plan, which was that his Indians should commence the game of ball under the forts, and after playing a short time, strike the ball into the fort: of course, some of them would go in for it ; and hav- ing done this two or three times, and recommenced the play to avoid suspicion, they were to strike it over again, and follow it up by a rush after it through the gates; and 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 at- tack upon 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 Em- ma , " you don't know how much you have interest- ed 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 Per- cival, so I shall proceed with my history. " The fort of Detroit was garrisoned by about three hundred men, when Pontiac arrived there with a large force of Indians, and encamped under the walls, but he had his warriors so mixed up with the women and children, and brought so many articles for trade, that no suspicion was created. The gar- rison 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 64 THE SETTLERS. had no suspicions. Pontiac sent word to the major, that he wished to ' have a talk' with him, in order to cement more fully the friendship between the Indians and the English ; and to this Major Gladwin con- sented, appointing the next day to receive Pontiac and his chiefs in the fort. "Now it so happened, that Major Gladwin had employed an Indian woman to make him a pair of moccasins out of a very curious-marked elk-skin. The Indian woman brought him the moccasins with the remainder of the skin. The major was so pleased with them that he ordered her to make him a second pair of moccasins out of the skin, and then told her that she might keep the remainder for herself. The woman having received the order, quitted the major, hut instead of leaving the fort, remained loitering about till she was observed, and they inquired why she did not go. She replied, that she wanted to re- turn the rest of the skin as he set so great a value on it ; and as this appeared strange conduct, she was questioned, and then she said, that if she took away the skin then, she never would be able to return it. " Major Gladwin sent for the woman, upon hear- ing of the expressions which she had used, and it was evident that she wanted to communicate some- thing, but was afraid ; but on being pressed hard and encouraged, and assured of protection, she then informed Major Gladwin, that Pontiac and his chiefs were to come into the fort to-morrow, under the plea t>f holding a talk ; but that they had cut the barrels of their rifles short, to conceal them under their blankets, and that it was their intention at a signal given by Pontiac to murder Major Gladwin and all his officers who were at the council ; while the oth- er warriors, who would also come into the fort with concealed arms under pretence of trading, would at- tack the garrison outside. " Having obtained this information, Major Glad- win did all he could to put the fort into a state of defence, and took every necessary precaution. He THE SETTLERS. 65 made known to the officers and men what the in- tentions of the Indians were, and instructed the offi- cers how to act at the council, and the garrison how to meet the pretended traders outside. " About ten o'clock, Pontiac and his thirty-six chiefs, with a train of warriors, came into the fort to their pretended council, and were received with great politeness. Pontiac made his speech, and when he came forward to present the wampum belt, the receipt of which by the major was, as the In- dian women had informed them, to be the signal for the chiefs and warriors to commence the assault, the major and his officers drew their swords half out of their scabbards, and the troops, with their muskets loaded and bayonets fixed, appeared outside and in the council-room, all ready to present. Pontiac, brave as he really was, turned pale : he perceived that he was discovered, and consequently, to avoid any open detection, he finished his speech with many professions of regard for the English. Major Gladwin ihen rose to reply to him, and immediately informed him that he was aware of his plot and his murderous intentions. Pontiac denied it ; but Major Gladwin stepped to the chief, and drawing aside his blanket, exposed his rifle cut short, which left Pon- tiac and his chiefs without a word to say in reply. Major Gladwin then desired Pontiac to quit the fort immediately, as otherwise he should not be able to restrain the indignation of the soldiers, who would immolate him and all his followers who were out- side of the fort. Pontiac and his chiefs did not wait for a second intimation, but made all the haste they could to get outside of the gates." " Was it prudent in Major Gladwin to allow Pon- tiac and his chiefs to leave, after they had come into the fort with an intent to murder him and his men ?" said Henry Campbell. " Would not the major have been justified in detaining them ?" "I certainly think he would have been, and so aid my uncle, but Major Gladwin thought otherwise. 6* 66 THE SETTLERS. He said that he had promised safe conduct and pro- tection to and from the fort before he was aware of the conspiracy ; and, having made a promise, hia honor would not allow him to depart from it." "At all events, the major, if he erred, erred on the right side," observed Alfred. " I think myse'f that he was too scrupulous, and that I in his place should have detained some of them, if not Pontiac himself, as a hostage for the good behavior of the rest of the tribes." " The result proved that if Major Gladwin had done so he would have done wisely; for the next day, Pontiac, not at all disarmed by Major Gladwin's clemency, made a most furious attack upon the fort. Every stratagem was resorted to, but the attack failed. Pontiac then invested it, cut off all their supplies, and the garrison was reduced to great dis- tress. But I must break off now, for here we are at Trois Rivieres, where we shall remain for the night. I hope you will not find your accommoda- tions very uncomfortable, Mrs. Campbell : I fear as we advance you will have to put up with worse." " And we are fully prepared for it, Captain Sin- clair," replied Mr. Campbell ; " but my wife and my nieces have too much good sense to expect London hotels in the wilds of Canada." The bateaux were now on shore, and the party landed to pass the night at the small stockaded vil- lage of Trois Roivires. THE SETTLEES. OT CHAPTER VIII. Captain Sinclair having stated that they would have a longer journey on the following day, and that it would be advisable to start as soon as possible, they rose at daylight, and in half an hour had break- fasted 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 Mon- treal, 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 I regret to say, you must trust to your tents and vour own bedding for this night, as there is no habitation large enough to receive us on the river's side, anywhere near where we wish to arrive." " Never mind, Captain Sinclair, we shall sleep very sound, 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 yesterday, at the time 68 THE SETTLERS. when he was blockading the Fort of Detroit. Will you oblige us by stating what afterward took place ?" With great pleasure, Miss Percival. There was great difficulty in relieving the fort, as all communi- cation had been cut off; at last the governor sent his aide-de-camp, Captain Dalyell, who contrived to throw himself in the fort with about two hundred and fifty men. He shortly afterward sallied out to attack the entrenchments of the Indians, but Pontiac having received intelligence of his intention, laid an ambuscade for him, beat back the troops with great loss, and poor Dalyell fell in the combat, that took place near a bridge which still goes by the name of Bloody Bridge. Pontiac cut off the head of Captain Dalyell, and set it upon a post." "So much for Major Gladwin's extreme sense of honor," exclaimed Alfred; "had he detained Ponti- ac as a prisoner, nothing of this kind would have happened." " I agree with you, Mr. Alfred," replied Captain Sinclair, " it was letting loose a wolf; but Major Gladwin thought he was doing what was right, and therefore can not be well blamed. After this defeat, the investment was more strict than ever, and the garrison suffered dreadfully. Several vessels which were sent out to supply the garrison fell into the hands of Pontiac, who treated the men very cruelly. What with the loss of men and constant watching, as well as the want of provisions, the garrison was reduced to the greatest privations. At last a schooner came off with supplies, which Pontiac as usual at- tacked with his warriors in their canoes. The schooner was obliged to stand out again, but the Indians followed, and by their incessant fire killed or wounded almost every man on board of her, and at length boarded and took possession. As they were climbing up the shrouds and over the gunnel of the vessel, the captain of the vessel, who was a most determined man, and resolved not to fall intG the hands of the Indians, called out to the gunner tt THE SETTLERS. 69 set fire to the magazine, and blow them all up to- gether. This order was heard by one of Pontiac's chiefs acquainted with English ; he cried out to the other Indians, and sprang away from the vessel ; the other Indians followed him, and hurried away in their canoes, or by swimming as fast as they could from the vessel. The captain took advantage of the wind and arrived safe at the fort ; and thus was the garrison relieved and those in the fort saved from destruction by the courage of this one man." " You say that Pontiac is now dead, at least Mar- tin Super told us so. How did he die, Captain Sin- clair?" inquired Mrs. Campbell. " He was killed by an Indian, but it is difficult to say why. For many years he had made friends with us and had received a liberal pension from the government ; but it appears that his hatred against the English had again broken out, and in a council held by the Indians, he proposed assailing us anew. After he had spoken, an Indian buried his knife in his heart, but whether to gratify a private animosity or to avoid a further warfare with those who had always thinned their tribes, it is difficult to ascertain. One thing is certain, that most of the Indian ani- mosity against the English is buried with him." " Thank you, Captain Sinclair," said Mary Per- cival, " for taking so much trouble. I think Pontiac's history is a very interesting one." " There was much to admire and much to deplore in his character, and we must not judge the Indian too harshly. He was formed for command, and pos- sessed great courage and skill in all his arrange- ments, independent of his having the tact to keep all the lake tribes of Indians combined, no very easy task. That he should have endeavored to drive us away from those lands of which he considered him- self (and very correctly too) as the sovereign, is not to be Avondered at, especially as our encroachments daily increased. The great fault of his character, in our eyes, was his treachery ; but we must remember 70 THE SETTLERS. that the whole art of Indian warfare is based upon stratagem." " But his attacking the fort after he had been so generously dismissed when his intentions were known, was surely very base," remarked Mrs. Camp- bell. "What we consider a generous dismissal, haprob- ably 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 therefore bound to let us remain in possession of his lands. But whatever treachery the Indians consider allowable and proper in warfare, it is not a portion of the Indian's char- acter ; for, at any other lime his hospitality and good faith are not to be doubted, if he pledges himself for your safety. It is a pity that they are not Christians. Surely it would make a great improvement in a character which, even in its unenlightened state, has in it much to be admired. " When the form of worship and creed is simple, it is difficult to make converts, and the Indian is a clear reasoner. 1 once had a conversation with one of the chiefs on the subject. After he had conversed some time, he said, ' You believe in one God — so do we ; you call him one name — we call him another ; we don't speak the same language, that is the reason. You say, suppose you do good, you go to land of Good Spirits — we say so too. Then Indians and Yangees (that is, English) both try to gain same object, only try in not the same way. Now I think that it is much better that as we all go along to- gether, that every man paddle his own canoe. That my thought.' " " It is, as you say, Captain Sinclair, difficult to argue with men who look so straight forward and are so practical in their ideas. Nevertheless," said Mrs. Campbell, " a false creed must often lead to false conduct; and whatever is estimable in the In- THE SETTLERS. 71 dian character would be strengthened and improved Dy the infusion of Christian principles and Christian hopes — so that I must still consider it very desirable '.hat the Indians should become Christians — and 1 trust that 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 to pass the night ; they landed, and some of the soldiers were employed in setting up the tent on a dry hillock, while others collected logs of wood for the fire. Martin Super brought on shore the bedding, and, assisted by Alfred and Henry, placed it in the tent. Captain Sinclair's canteen provided sufficient articles to enable them to make tea, and in less than half an hour the kettle was on the fire. As soon as they had partaken of these refreshments and the contents of a basket of provis- ions procured at Trois Rivieres, the ladies retired for the night. Captain Sinclair stationed sentinels at dif- ferent posts as a security from any intruders, and then the remainder of the troops with the other males composing the party, lay down with their feet toward a large fire, composed of two or three trunks of trees, which blazed for many yards in height. In a short time all was quiet, and all were in repose except the sentinels, the sergeant and corporal, and Captain Sinclair, who relieved each other. The night passed without any disturbance, and the next morning they reimbarked and pursued their course. Before sunset, they arrived at the town of Montreal, where it had been arranged that they should wait a day. Mr. Campbell had a few pur- chases to make here, which he completed. It had been his intention also, to procure two of the small Canadian horses, but by the advice of Captain Sin- clair, 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, that in all probability 72 THE SETTLERS. 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 satisfy their curiosity. The French ladies shrugged up their shoulders and exclaimed, " Est-il possible ?'■ when they heard that the Camp- bells 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 effect upon any of the party. Cap- tain Sinclair offered to remain another day if Mr. Campbell wished it ; but, on the contrary, he was anxious to arrive as soon as possible at his destina- tion ; and the following morning they again em- barked, having now about three hundred and sixty miles to ascend against the current and the occasional rapids. It would take too much space if I were to narrate all that took place during their difficult as- cent ; how they were sometimes obliged to land and carry the cargoes of the boats ; how one or two bat- eaux were upset and some of their stores lost ; and how their privations increased on each following day of the journey. I have too much to relate to enter into this portion of the narrative, although there might be much in the detail ; it will be suffi- cient to say that, after sixteen days of some peril and much fatigue, and of considerable suffering, from the clouds of musquitoes which assailed them during the night, they were landed safely at Fort Fronlig- nac, and treated with every attention by the com- mandant, who had received letters from the governor of Quebec, desiring him to do all that he possibly could to serve them. The commandant, Colonel Foster, had showed Mr. Campbell and his party the rooms which had been provided for them, and now, THE SETTLERS. 73 for the first time after many days, they found them- selves altogether 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, incon- sequence, surmounted, during their long and tedious journey from Quebec, Mr. Campbell observed : " My dear wife and children, we have thus far proceeded without serious casualty ; it has pleased the Al- mighty to conduct us safely over a boisterous sea, to keep our spirits up by providing us with unexpected friends and support, and we have now arrived within a few miles of our destination. But let us not sup- pose that o.ur perils and difficulties are terminated ; on the contrary, without wishing to dishearten you, I feel that they are about to commence. We have much privation, much fatigue, and perhaps, much danger to encounter, before we can expect to be in comfort or in security ; but we must put our trust in that gracious Providence which has hitherto so mer- cifully preserved us, and at the same time not relax in our own energy and industry, which must ever accompany our faith in the Divine aid. It is long since we have had an opportunity of being gathered together and alone. Let us seize this opportunity of pouring out our thanks to God for his mercies already vouchsafed, and praying for a continuance of his protection. Even in the wilderness let us walk with him, trust in him, and ever keep him in our thoughts. We must bear in mind that this entire life is but a pilgrimage ; that if, during its course, we should meet with affliction and distress, it is his ap- pointment, and designed undoubtedly for our good. It is our wisdom, as well as duty, to submit patiently to whatever may befall us, never losing our courage, or becoming disheartened V>y suffering, but trusting to the mercy and power of Him who can and will, at his own good time, deliver us from evil." Mr. Campbell knelt down, surrounded by his family, and in a fervent and feeling address, poured forth his Vol. I.— 7 74 THE SETTLERS. thanksgiving for past mercies and humble solicitation for further assistance. So powerful and so eloquent were his words, that the tears coursed down the cheeks of his wife and nieces ; and when he had finished, all their hearts were so full, that they retired to their beds without further exchange of words than receiving his blessing and wishing each uther good night. CHAPTER IX. The party were so refreshed by once more sleeping upon good beds, that they were up and dressed very early, and shortly after seven o'clock were all col- lected upon the rampart of the fort, surveying the landscape, which was indeed very picturesque and beautiful. Before them, to their left, the lake was spread, an inland sea, lost in the horizon, now quite calm, and near to the shores studded with small islands covered with verdant foliage, and appearing as if they floated upon the transparent water. To the westward, and in front of them, were the clear- ings belonging to the fort, backed with the distant woods: a herd of cattle were grazing on a portion of the cleared land ; the other was divided off by a snake fence, as it is termed, and was under cultiva- tion. Here and there a log-building was raised as a shelter for the animals during the winter, and at half a mile's distance was a small fort, surrounded wi'.h high palisades, intended as a place of retreat and security for those who might be in charge of the cattle, in case of danger or surprise. Close to the fort, a rapid stream, now from the freshets overflow- ing its banks, poured down its waters into the lake, running its course through a variety of shrubs and larches and occasional elms which lined its banks. The sun shone bright — the woodpeckers flew from tree to tree, or clung to the rails of the fences — the THE SETTLERS. 75 Delted kingfisher darted up and down over the run- ning stream — and the chirping and wild notes of various birds were heard on every side of them. "This is very beautiful, is it not?" said Mrs. Campbell ; " surely it can not be so great a hardship to live in a spot like this ?" "Not if it were always so, perhaps, madam," said Colonel Forster, who had joined the party as Mrs. Campbell made the observation. " But Canada in the month of June is very different from Canada in January. That we find our life monotonous in this fort, separated as we are from the rest of the world, I admit, and the winters are so long and severe as to tire out our patience ; but soldiers must do their duty whether burning under the tropics or freezing in the wilds of Canada. It can not be a very agree- able life, when even the report of danger near to us becomes a pleasurable feeling from the excitement it causes for the moment. " I have been talking, Mr. Campbell, with Captain Sinclair, and find you have much to do before the short summer is over, to be ready to meet the coming winter ; more than you can well do with your lim- ited means. lam happy that my instructions from the governor will permit me to be of service to you. I propose that the ladies shall remain here, while you, with such assistance as I can give, proceed to your allotment, and prepare for their reception." " A thousand thanks for your kind offer, colonel — but no, no, we will all go together," interrupted 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 Forster, 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 spare for a few weeks, to assist you in your labors," replied Colonel Forster. "Their remune- ration will not put you to a very great expense. Captain Sinclair has volunteered to take charge of it." 76 THE SETTLERS. " 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 ihe commandant, " although I did hope that I should have had the pleasure of your company for a little longer. You are aware that I have the 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 conversation with Mary Percival, and who now ad- dressed Mr. Campbell, " have been making another collection for you from my brother officers, which you were not provided with, and will find very use- ful, I may say absolutely necessary." "What may that be, Captain Sinclair ?" said Mr. Campbell. "A variety of dogs of every description. I have a pack of five ; and, although not quite so handsome as your pet dogs in England, you will find them well acquainted with the country, and do their duty well. I have a pointer, a bull-dog, two terriers, and a fox- hound — all of them of good courage and ready to attack catamount, wolf, lynx, or even a bear, if required." "It is, indeed, a very valuable present," replied Mr. Campbell, " and you have our sincere thanks." " The cows you had better select before you go, unless you prefer that I should do it for you," ob- served Colonel Forster. " They shall be driven over in a day or two, as I presume the ladies will wish to have milk. By-the-by, Mr. Campbell, I must let you into a secret. The wild onions which grow so plentifully in this country, and which the cattle are very fond of, give a very unpleasant taste to the milk. You may remove it by heating the milk as soon as it has been drawn from the cows." " Many thanks, colonel, for your information," re* THE SETTLERS. 77 plied Mr. Campbell, "for I certainly have no great partiality to the flavor of onions in milk.' 1 A summons to breakfast broke up the conversation. During the day, Henry and Alfred, assisted by Cap- tain Sinclair and Martin Super, were very busy in loading the two bateaux with the stores, tents, and various trunks of linen and other necessaries which they had brought with them. Mr. and Mrs. Camp- bell, with the girls, were equally busy in selecting and putting on one side articles for immediate use on their arrival at the allotment. As they were very tired, they went to bed early, that they might be ready for the next day's re-embarkation ; and after breakfast,' having taken leave of the kind command- ant and the other officers, they went down to the shore of the lake, and embarked with Captain Sin- clair in the commandant's boat, which had been pre- pared for them. Martin Super, Alfred, and Henry, with the five dogs, went on board of the two bateaux, which were manned by the corporal and twelve sol- diers, lent by the commandant to Mr. Campbell. The weather was beautifully fine, and they set off in high spirits. The distance by water was not more than three miles, although by land it was nearly five, and in halt an hour they entered the cove adjoining to which the allotment iay. "There is the spot, Mrs. Campbell, which is to be your future residence," said Captain Sinclair, pointing with his hand; "you observe where that brook runs down into the lake, that is your eastern boundary ; the land on the other side is the property of the old hunter we have spoken of. You see his little log-hut, not much bigger than an Indian lodge, and the patch of Indian corn now sprung out of the ground which is enclosed by the fence. This portion appears not to be of any use to him, as he has no cattle of any kind, unless indeed they have gone into the bush ; but I think some of our men said that he lived entirely by the chase, and that he has an Indian wife." 78 THE SETTLERS. " Well," said Emma Percival, laughing, " female society is what we never calculated upon. What is the man's name ?" " Malachi Bone," replied Captain Sinclair. " 1 presume you expect Mrs. Bone to call first?" " She ought to do so, if she knows the usage of society," replied Emma ; " but if she does not, I think I shall waive ceremony and go and see her. I have great curiosity to make acquaintance with an Indian squaw." "You may be surprised to hear me say so, Miss Emma, but I assure you, without having ever seen her, that you will find her perfectly well bred. All the Indian women are — their characters are a com- pound of simplicity and reserve. — Keep the boat's head more to the right, Selby, we will land close to that little knoll." The commandant's boat had pulled much faster, and was a Jong way ahead of the bateaux. In a few minutes afterward they had all disembarked, and were standing on the knoll, surveying their new property. A portion of about thirty acres, running along the shore of the lake, Avas what is termed natural prairie, or meadow of short fine grass ; the land immediately behind the meadow was covered with brushwood for about three hundred yards, and then rose a dark and impervious front of high timber which completely confined the landscape. The al- lotment belonging to the old hunter, on the opposite side of the brook", contained about the same portion of natural meadow, and was in other respecis but a continuation of the portion belonging to Mr. Camp- bell. " Well," said Martin, Super, as soon as he had come up to the party on the knoll, for the bateaux had now arrived, "I reckon, Mr. Campbell, that you are in luck to have this piece of grass. It would have taken no few blows of the axe to have cleared it away out of such a wood as that behind us. Why, "t's as good as a fortune to a new settler." THE SETTLERS. 79 " I think it is, Martin," replied Mr. Campbell. " Well, sir, now to Avork as soon as you please, for a day is a day, and must not be lost. I'll go to the wood with five or six of the men who can han- dle an axe, and begin to cut down, leaving you and the captain there to decide where the house is to be ; the other soldiers will be putting up the tents all ready for to-night, for you must not expect a house over your heads till next full moon."' In a quarter of an hour all were in motion. Henry and Alfred took their axes, and followed Martin Super and half of the soldiers; the others were busy landing the stores and pitching the tents, while Cap- tain Sinclair and Mr. Campbell were surveying the ground, that they might choose a spot for the erec- tion of the house. Mrs. Campbell remained sitting on the knoll, watching the debarkation of the pack- ages ; and Percival, by her directions, brought to her those articles which were for immediate use. Mary and Emma Percival, accompanied by John, as they had no task allotted for them, walked up by the side of the stream toward the wood. "I wish I had my box," said John, who had been watching the running water. " Why do you want your box, John ?" said Mary "For my hooks in my box," replied John. " Why, do you see any fish in this small stream ?" said Emma. " Yes," replied John, walking on before them. Mary and Emma followed him, now and then stopping to pick a flower unknown to them : when they overtook John he was standing immovable, pointing to a figure on the other side of the stream, as fixed and motionless as himself. The two girls started back as they beheld a tall, gaunt man, dressed in deer-hides, who stood leaning upon a long gun with his eyes fixed up.in them. His face was browned and weather-beaten — indeed so dark, that it was difficult to say if he were of the indian race or not. 80 THE SETTLERS. " It must be the hunter, Emma," said Mary Per* cival ; " he is not dressed like the Indians we saw at Quebec." " It must be," replied Emma ; " won't he speak ?" " We will wait and see," replied Mary. They did wait for a minute or more, but the man neither spoke nor shifted his position. " I will speak to him, Mary," said Emma at last. "My ejood man, you are Malachi Bone, are you not?" " That's my name," replied the hunter in a deep voice ; " and who on earth are you, and what are you doing here ? Is it a frolic from the fort, or what is it, that causes all this disturbance ?" " Disturbance ! — why we don't make a great deal of noise ; no, its no frolic ; we are come to settle here, and shall be your neighbors." " To settle here ! — why, what on earth do you mean, young woman ? Settle here ! — not you sure- ly." "Yes, indeed, we are. Don't you know Martin Super, the trapper ? He is with us, and now at work in the woods getting ready for raising the house, as you call it. Do you know Mary," said Emma in a low tone to her sister, "I'm almost afraid of that man, although I do speak so boldly." " Martin Super — yes, I know him," replied the hunter, who without any more ceremony threw his gun into the hollow of his arm, turned round, and walked away in the direction of his own hut. " Well, Mary," observed Emma, after a pause of a few seconds, during which they watched the rece- ding furm of the hunter, " the old gentleman is not over-polite. Suppose we go back and narrate our first adventure ?" " Let us walk up to where Alfred and Martin Super are at work, and tell them," replied Mary. They soon gained the spot where the men were felling the trees, and made known to Alfred and Martin what had taken place. " He is angered, rniss," observed Martin ; " I guess- THE SETTLERS. 81 ed as much ; well, if he don't like it, he must squat elsewhere." " How do you mean squat elsewhere ?" "I mean, miss, that if he don't like company so near him, he must shift and build his wigwam fur- iher off." " But, why should he not like company ? I should have imagined that it would be agreeable rather than otherwise," replied Mary Percival. " You may think so, miss ; but Malachi Bone thinks otherwise; and il'svery natural; a man who has lived all his life in the woods, all alone, his eye never resting, his ear ever watching ; catching at every sound, even to the breaking of a twig or the falling of a leaf; sleeping with his finger on his trig- ger and one eye half open, gets used to no company but his own, and can't abide it. I recollect the time that I could not. Why, miss, when a man hasn't spoken a word perhaps for months, talking is a fa- tigue, and, when he hasn't heard a word spoken for months, listening is as had. It's all custom, miss, and Malachi, as I guessed, don't like it, and so he's rily and angered. I will go see him after the work is over." " But he has his wife, Martin, has he not ?" "Yes; but she's an Indian wife, Master Alfred, and Indian wives don't speak unless they're spoken to." " What a recommendation," said Alfred laughing ; " I really think I shall look after an Indian wife, Emma." " I think you had better," replied Emma. " You'd be certain of a quiet house — when you were out of it — and when at home, you would have all the talk to yourself, which is just what you like. Come, Mary, let us leave him to dream of his squaw." The men selected by the commandant of the fort were well used to handle the axe; before dusk, many trees had been felled, and were ready for saw- ing into lengths. The tents had all been pitched: 82 THE SETTLERS. those for the Campbells on the knoll we have spoken of; Captain Sinclair's and that for the soldiers about a hundred yards distant ; the fires were lighted, and as the dinner had been cold, a hot supper was pre- pared by Martin and Mrs. Campbell, assisted by the girls and the younger boys. After supper they all retired to an early bed ; Captain Sinclair having put a man as sentry, and ihe 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 neighborhood of Fort Frontignac. CHAPTER X. The next morning, when they assembled at break, fast, 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 noth- ing." " It was like the sound of cart-wheels at a dis- tance, with whistling and hissing," continued Mary. " 1 think 1 can explain it to you, as I was up du- ring the night, Miss Percival," said Captain Sinclair. " It is a noise you must expect every night during the summer season ; but one to which you will soon be accustomed." " Why, what was it ?" " Frogs — nothing more ; except, indeed, the his- sing, which I believe is made by the lizards. 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 Buch a din ?" THE SETTLERS. 83 "Yes, when thousands join in the concert — I may say millions." " Well, I thank you for the explanation, Captain Sinclair, as it has been some relief to my mind." After breakfast, Martin (we shall for the future leave out his surname) informed Mr. Campbell that he had seen Malachi Bone, the hunter, who had expressed great dissatisfaction at their arrival, and his determination to quit the place if they re- mained. " Surely, he hardly expects us to quit the place to please him." " No," replied Martin ; " but if he were cankered in disposition, which I will say Malachi is not, he might make it very unpleasant for you to remain, by bringing the Indians about you." " Surely, he would not do that," said Mrs. Camp- bell. "No, I don't think he would," replied Martin; " because, you see, it's just as easy for him to go further off'." "But why should we drive him away from his property any more than we leave our own ?" ob- served Mrs. Campbell. " He says he won't be crowded, ma'am ; he can't bear to be crowded." " Why, there's a river between us." " So there is, ma'am, but s t ill that's his feeling. I said to him, that if he would go, I dare say Mr. Campbell would buy his allotment of him, and he seems quite willing to part with it." "It would be a great addition to your property, Mr. Campbell," observed Captain Sinclair. "In the first place, you would have the whole of the prairie and the right of the river on both sides, ap- parently of no consequence now, but as the country fills up, most valuable." " Well," replied Mr. Campbell, " as I presume we Khali remain here, or, at all events, those who sur- vive me will, till the country fills up, I shall be most 84 THE SETTLERS. happy to make any arrangement with Bone for the purchase of his property." " I'll have some more talk with him, sir," replied Martin. The second day was passed as was the first, in making preparations for erecting the house, which, now that they had obtained such unexpected help, was, by the advice of Captain Sinclair, considerably enlarged beyond the size originally intended. As Mr. Campbell paid the soldiers employed a certain sum per day for their labor, he had less scruple in em. ploying them longer. Two of them were good car- penters, and a sawpithad been dug, that they might prepare the doors and the frames for the window- sashes which Mr. Campbell had taken the pre- caution to bring Avith him. On the third day, a boat arrived from the fort, bringing the men's rations and a present of two fine bucks from the commandant. Captain Sinclair went in the boat to procure some articles which he required, and re- turned in the evening. The weather continued fine, and in the course of a week, a great deal of timber was cut and squared. During this time, Martin had several meetings with the old hunter, and it was agreed that he should sell his property to Mr. Camp- bell : money he appeared to care little about — in- deed, it was useless to him ; gunpowder, lead, flints, blankets, and tobacco, were the principal articles requested in the barter ; the amount, however, was not precisely settled. An intimacy had been struck up between the old hunter and John ; in what man- ner it was difficult 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 reported that he was in the lodge of the old hunter, and that he could come to no harm ; so Mrs. Campbell was satisfied. " But what does he do there, Martin ?" said Mrs. THE SETTLERS. 85 Campbell, as they were clearing away the table after supper. " Just nothing but look at the squaw, or at Mala- chi cleaning 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 afternoon," observed Mary ; " so he is not quite 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 hunter one of these days, as old Malachi says. He can draw the bead on the old man's rifle in good style already, I can tell you." " How do you mean, Martin ?" said Mrs. Camp- bell. " I mean that he can fire pretty true, ma'am, al- though it's a heavy gun for him to lift ; a smaller one would be 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-.here ; the sooner a boy is useful the bet- ter ; and the boy with a gun is almost as good as a man — for the gun kills equally well, if pointed true. Master Percival must have his gun as soon as I am at leisure to teach him." " I wish you were at leisure now, Martin," cried Percival. "You forget, aunt, that you promised to learn to load and fire a rifle yourself," said Mary. " No, I do not ; and I intend to keep my word, as soon as there is time : but John is so very young." " Well, Mary, I suppose Ave must enlist too," said Emma. "Yes ; we'll be the female rifle brigade," replied Mary, laughing. " I really quite like the idea," continued Fmma ; " I will put up with no impertinence, reco^ect, Al- fred ; excite my displeasure, and I shall ta^e down my rifle." Vol. I.— 8 86 THE SETTLERS. " I suspect you will do more execution with your eyes, Emma," replied Alfred, laughing. " Not upon a catamount, as Martin calls it. Pray, what, is a catamount V "A painter, miss." " Oli ! now I know : a catamount is a painter, and a painter is a leopard or a panther. As I live, uncle, here comes the old hunter, with John trotting at his heels. I thought he would come at last. The visit is to me, I'm sure, for when we first met he was dumb wiih 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 De rather a rarity." As she said this, old Malachi Bone came up, and seated himself, without speaking, placing his rifle between his knees. " Your servant, sir," said Mr. Campbell ; " I hope you are well." " What on earth makes you come here ?" said Bone, looking round him. " You are not fit for the wilderness ! Winter will arrive soon ; and then you go back, I reckon." " No, we shall not," replied Alfred, " for we have nowhere to go back to : hesides, the people are too crowded where we came from, so we came here for more room." " I reckon you'll crowd me," replied the hunter ; " so I'll go further." " Well, Malachi, the gentleman will pay you for your clearing." " I told you so," said Martin. " Yes, you did ; but I'd rather not have seen him or his goods." " By goods, I suppose you mean us about you," said Emma. " No, girl, I didn't mean you. I meant gunpow- der and the like." THE SETTLERS. 87 "I think, Emma, you are comprehended in the last word," said Alfred. " That is more than you are, then, for he did not mention lead," retorted Emma. " Martin Super, you know I did specify lead on the paper," said Malachi Bone. " You did, and you shall have it," said Mr. Camp- bell. " Say what your terms are now, and I will close with you." "Well, I'll leave that to Martin and you, stran- ger. I clear out -to-morrow." " To-morrow ; and where do you go to ?" Malachi Bone pointed to the westward. " You'll- not hear my rifle," said the old hunter, after a pause ; " but I'm thinking you'll never stay here. You don't know what an Ingen's life is ; it an't fit for the like of you. No, there's not one of you, 'cept this boy," continued Malachi, putting his hand on John's head, " that's fit for the woods. Let him come to me. I'll make a hunter of him, won't I, Martin ?" " That you will, if they'll spare him to you." "We can not spare him altogether," replied Mr. Campbell, " but he shall visit you, if you wish it." " Well, that's a promise : and I won't go so far as I thought I would. He has a good eye ; I'll come for him." The old man then rose up, and walked away, John following him, without exchanging a word with any of the party. " My dear Campbell," said his wife, " what do you intend to do about John ? You do not intend that the hunter should take him with him?" "No, certainly not," replied Mr. Campbell ; " but I see no reason why he should not be with him oc- casionally." " It will be a very good thing for him to be so," said Martin. " If I may advise, let the boy come and go. The old man has taken a fancy to him, and 88 THE SETTLERS. will teach him his wood-craft. It's as well lo make a friend of Malachi Bone." "Why, what good can he do us?" inquired Henry. " A friend in need is a friend indeed, sir ; and a friend in the wilderness is not to be thrown away Old Malachi is going further out, and if danger oc- curs, we shall know it from lum, for the sake of the hoy, and have his help too, if we need it." " There is much good sense in Martin Super's re- marks, Mr. Campbell," observed Captain Sinclair. " You will then have Malachi 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 prepare him for 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 go, sir — let him go," said Martin. " I will give no positive answer, Martin," replied Mr. Campbell. "At all events, I will permit him to visit the old man ; there can be no objection to that ; but it is bedtime." THK SETTLERS. 89 CHAPTER XI. We must pass over six weeks, during which the labor was continued without intermission, and the house was raised, of logs, squared and well fitted; the windows and doors were also put in, and the roof well covered in with large squares of birch-bark, firmly fixed on the rafters. The house consisted of one large room, as a dining-room, and the kitchen, with a floor of well-beaten clav, a smaller room, as a sitting-room, and three bed-rooms, all of which Avere floored ; one of the largest of them fitted all round with bed-places against the walls, in the same way as on board of packets ; this room was for the four boys, and had two spare bed-places in it. The others, which were for the two girls and Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, were much smaller. But before the house was half built, a large outhouse adjoining to it had been raised to hold the stores which Mr. Campbell had brought with him, with a rough gra- nary made above the store-room. The interior of the house was not yet fitted up, although the furni- ture had been put in, and the family slept in it, rough as it was, in preference to the tents, as they were very much annoyed with moschetoes. The stores were now safe from the weather, and they had a roof over their heads, which was the grand object that was to be obtained. The carpenters were still very busy fitting up the interior of the house, and the other men were splitting rails for a snake-fence, and also selecting small timber for raising a high pali- sade round the premises. Martin had not been idle. The site of the house was just where the brushwood joined to the prairie, and Martin had been clearing it away and stacking it, and also collecting wood for 8* 90 THK SETTLERS. winter fuel. It had been decided that the four cows, which had been driven round from the fort, should be housed during the winter in the small building on the other side of the stream, which had belonged to Malachi Bone, as it was surrounded with a high snake-fence, and sufficiently large to hold them and even more. The commandant had very kindly se- lected the most quiet cows to milk, and Mary and Emma Percival had already entered upon their du- ties : the milk had been put into the storehouse, until a dairy could be built up. A very neat bridge had been thrown across the stream, and every morn- ing the two girls, generally attended by Henry, Al- fred, or Captain Sinclair, crossed over, and soon became expert in their new vocation as dairy-maids. Altogether, things began to wear a promising ap- pearance. Henry and Mr. Campbell had dug up as fast as Martin and Alfred cleared away the brush- wood, and the garden had already been cropped with such few articles as could be put in at the sea- son. The commandmant had some pigs ready for the settlers as soon as they were ready to receive them, and had more than once come up in the boats to ascertain their progress, and to offer any advice that he might consider useful. We must not, however, forget Malachi Bone. The day after Bone had come to Mr. Campbell, Emma perceived him going away into the woods, with his rifle, followed by her cousin John, and being very curious to see his Indian wife, she persuaded Alfred and Captain Sinclair to accompany her and Mary to the other side of the stream. The great point was to know where to cross it, but as John had found out the means of so doing, it was to be presumed that there was a passage, and they set off to look for it. Tiny found that, about half a mile up the stream, which there ran through the wood, a large tree had been blown down and laid across it, and, with tiie assistance of the young men, Mary and Emma passed it without much difficulty; they then turned back THE SETTLERS. 01 by the side of the stream until they approached the lodge 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 no- body came out, and they arrived at the door of the lodge where the dog stood ; when, sitting on the floor, they perceived the Indian girl whom they were in search of. She was very busy sewing a pair ol mocassins 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. "How. very young she is," said Emma; "why she can not be more than eighteen years old." " I doubt if she is so much," replied Captain Sin- clair. " She has a very modest, unaffected look, has she not, Alfred ?" said Mary. "Yes ; I think there is something very preposses- sing in her countenance." " She is too young a wife for the old hunter, at all events," observed Alfred. " That is not unusual among the Indians," said Captain Sinclair ; " a very old chief will often have three or four young wives ; they are to be considered more in the light of his servants than anything else." " But she must think us very rude to talk and stare at her in tlr's manner ; I suppose she can not speak English." "I will sneak to her in her own language, if she is a Chippeway or of any of the tribes about here, for they all have the same dialect," said Captain Sin- clair. Captain Sinclair addressed her in the Indian lan- guage, and the Indian girl replied in a very soft vo-'ce. "She says her husband is gone to bring home 92 THE SETTLERS. " Tell her we are coming to live here, and will give her anything she wants." Captain Sinclair again addressed her, and received her answer. " She says that you are beautiful flowers, but not the wild flowers of the country, and that the cold winter will kill you." " Tell her she will find us alive next summer," said Emma; "and, Captain Sinclair, give her this brooch of mine, and tell her to wear it for my sake." Captain Sinclair gave the message and the orna- ment to the Indian girl, who replied, as she looked up and smiled at Emma : — "That she would never forget the beautiful lily who was so kind to the little strawberry-plant." " Really her language is poetical and beautiful," observed Mary ; "I have nothing to give her — Oh! yes, I have ; here is my ivory needle-case, with some needles in it. Tell her it will be of use to her when she sews her moccasins. Open it and show her what is inside." "She says that she shall be able to work faster and better, and wishes to look at your foot, that she may be grateful ; so put your foot out, Miss Percival." Mary did so : the Indian girl examined it, and smiled and nodded her head. " Oh, Captain Sinclair, tell her that the little boy who is gone with her husband is our cousin." Captain Sinclair reported her answer, which was, " He will be a great hunter and bring home plenty of erame by-and-by." "Well, now tell her that we shall always be hap- py to see her, and that we are going home again ; and ask her name, and tell her our own." As Captain Sinclair interpreted, the Indian girl pronounced after him the names of Mary and Emma very distinctly. " She has your names, you perceive ; her own, translated into English, is the Slrawberry- plant." They then nodded farewell to the young Indian, THE SETTLERS. 93 tnd returned home. On the second evening after their visit, as they were at supper, the conversation turned upon the hunter and his young Indian wife, when John, who had as usual been silent, suddenly broke out with, " Goes away to-morrow !" " They go away to-morrow, John ; where do thev jo to V said Mr. Campbell. "Woods," replied John. John was correct in his statement. Early the next morning, Malachi Bone, with his rifle on his shoulder and an axe in his hand, was seen crossing the prairie belonging to Mr. Campbell, followed by his wife, who was bent double under her burden, which was composed of all the property which the old hunter possessed, tied up in blankets. He had left word the night before with Martin that he would come back in a few days, as soon as he had squatted, to settle the bargain for his allotment of land made over to Mr. Campbell. This was just before they had sat down to breakfast, and then thev observed that John was missing. " He was here just before prayers," said Mrs. Campbell. " He must have slipped away afler the old hunter." " No doubt of that, ma'am," said Martin. " He will go with him and find out where he puts up his wig- wam, and after that he will come back to you ; so there is no use sending after him ; indeed, we don't know which way to send." Martin was right. Two days afterward, John made his appearance again, and remained very quietly at home during the whole week, catching fish in the stream or practising with a bow and some arrows, which he had obtained from Malachi Bone ; but the boy appeared to be more taciturn and more fond of being alone than ever he was before ; still he was obedient and kind 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 94 THE SETTLERS. hunter, that his log-hut was taken possession of and the cows put into the meadow in front of it. As the work became more advanced, Martin went out every day, accompanied either by Alfred or Henry, in pursuit of game. Mr. Campbell had pro- cured an ample supply of ammunition, as well as the rifles, at Quebec. These had been unpacked, and the young men were becoming daily more ex- pert. Up to the present, the supply of game from the fort, and occasional fresh beef, had not rendered it necessary for Mr. Campbell to have much recourse to his barrels of salt pork, but still it was necessary that a supply should be procured as often as possi- ble, that they might husband their stores. Martin was a certain shot if within distance, and they sel- dom returned without a deer slung between them. The garden had been cleared away and the pig-sties were finished, but there was still the most arduous portion of the work to commence, which was the felling of the trees to clear the land for the growing of corn. In this they could expect no assistance from the garrison ; indeed, from the indulgence of the commandant, they had already obtained more than they could have expected. It was in the last days of August, and the men lent from the garrison were about to be recalled ; the houses were com- pleted, the palisade had been raised round the house and storehouse, and the men were now required at the fort. Captain Sinclair received several hints from the commandant that he must use all conveni- ent despatch, and limit his absence to a few days more, which he trusted would be sufficient. Cap- tain 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 reported that he would be ready to return on the 1st of September, and on the morning of that day the bateaux arrived to take back the soldiers, and bring the pigs and fowls which had been promised. Mr. Campbell THE SETTLERS. 95 settled his account with Captain Sinclair, by a draft upon his banker at Quebec, for the pay of the sol- diers, the cows, and the pigs. The captain then took leave of his friends with mutual regret, and many kind adieus, and, accompanied by the whole of the family to the beach, embarked with all his men and pulled away for the fort. CHAPTER XII. The Campbells remained for some time on the shore of the lake watching the receding bateaux until they turned round the point and were hidden from their sight, and then they walked back to the house. But few words were exchanged as they returned, for they felt a sensation of loneliness from having parted with so many of their own coun- trymen ; not that they were, with the exception of Captain Sinclair, companions, but that, accustomed to the sight of the soldiers at their labor, the spot now appeared depopulated by their departure. Mar- tin, too, and John, were both absent ; the latter had been two days away, and Martin, who had not yet found time to ascertain where old Malachi Bone had fixed his new abode, had gone out in search of it, and to mention to him Mr. Campbell's wishes as to John's visits to him, which were becoming more frequent and more lengthened than Mr. Campbell wished them to be. When they entered the house, they all sat down, and Mr. Campbell then first spoke. "Well, my dearest wife, here we are at last, left, to ourselves and to own resources. I am not at all doubtful of our doing well, if we exert ourselves, as it is our duty to do. I grant that we may have hard- ships to combat, difficulties to overcome, and occa- sional disappointments and losses to bear up against ; but let us recollect how greatly we have, through 96 THE SETTLERS. Providence, been already assisted and encouraged, how much help we have received, and how much kindness we have experienced. Surely we ought to feel most grateful to Heaven for blessings already vouchsafed to us, and ought to have a firm and live- ly faith in Him, who has hitherto so kindly watched over us. Let us not then repine or feel dispirited, but with grateful hearts do our duty cheerfully in that state of life to which it has pleased Him to call us." "I agree with you, my dear husband," replied Mrs. Campbell, "nay, I can say with sincerity, that I am not sorry we are now left to our own exertions, and that we have an opportuniy of proving that we can do without the assistance of others. Up to the present, our trial has been nothing; indeed, I can fancy to myself what our trials are to be. Come they may, but from what quarter I can not form an idea : should they come, however, I trust we shall show our gratitude for past blessings, and our faith derived from past deliverances, by a devout submis- sion 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 opu- lence and luxury as we are now in this log-house ; hut we are, I thank God, not so liable in our present position to forget Him who so bountifully provides for us, and in his wisdom ordereth all our ways. Most truly has the poet said — " ' Sweet are the uses of adversity.' " " Well," observed Emma, after a pause, as if to give a more lively turn to the conversation, " I won- der what my trials are to be ! Depend upon it, the cow will kick down the pail, or the butter won't THE SETTLERS. 97 "Or you'll get chapped fingers in the wintertime, and chilblains on your feet," continued Mary. " That will be bad ; but Captain Sinclair says that if we don't take care we shall be frost-bitten, and lose the tips of our noses." " That would be hard upon you, Emma, for you've none to spare," said Alfred. " Well, you have, Alfred, so yours oucht to go first." "We must look after one another's noses, they Bay, as we can not tell if our own is in danger ; and if we see a white spot on another's nose we must take a bit of snow and rub it well ; a little delicate attention peculiar to this climate." " I can not say that I do not know what my trials are to be," said Alfred — '* that is, trials certain ; nor can Henry, either. When I look at the enormous trunks of these trees, 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 comes on," replied Henry ; " but felling timber was not a part of my university education." " No," replied Alfred ; " Oxford don't teach that ; now, my 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 knows well how to use and how to take care of it and take care of himself. I let him bring it home on purpose to watch him. He has fired and loaded twice as we came back, and has killed this Vol. L— 9 98 THE SETTLERS. wood-chuck," continued Martin, throwing the dead animal on the floor. " Old Malachi has taught him well, and he has not forgotten his lessons." " What animal is that, Martin— is it good to eat ?" said Henry. " Not very good, sir ; it's an animal that burrows in the ground, and is very hurtful in a garden or to the young maize, and we always shoot them when we meet with them." " It's a pity that it's not good to eat." " Oh ! you may eat it, sir ; I don'l say it's not fit to eat ; but there are other things much better." " That's quite sufficient for me Martin," said Em- ma ; " I shall not taste him ; at all events, not this time, whatever I may have to do by-and-by." " I spoke to old Bone, sir, and he says it's all right ; that he won't keep him more than a day without first sending him to you to ask leave." " That's all I require, Martin." " They have been out these two days, and had only just come home when I arrived there. The game was still in the wood." " I shot a deer," said John. " You shot a deer, John !" said Alfred ; " why, what a useful fellow you will be by-and-by." "Yes, sir, old Malachi told me that the boy had shot a deer, and that he would bring it here to-mor- row himself." " I'm glad of that, for I wish to speak with him," said Mr. Campbell ; "but, John, how came you to take the rifle with you without leave ?" John made no answer. "Answer me, John." " Can't shoot without a gun," replied John. "No, you can not ; but the rifle is not yours." "Give it me, and I'll shoot everything for dinner," replied John. "I think you had better do so, firmer," said Hen- ry, in a low voice ; " the temptation will be too strong." THE SETTLERS. 99 "You are right, Henry," replied Mr. Campbell, aside. " Now, John, I will give you the rifle, if you will promise me to ask leave when you want to go, and always come back at the time you have prom- ised." " I'll always tell when I go, if mamma will always let me go, and I'll always come back when I prom- ise, if—" v "If what?" " If I've killed," replied John. "He means, sir, that if he is on the track when his leave is out, that he must follow it ; but 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 must 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 ; but 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 Emma. "I'll teach you, cousins," said Alfred, "and give a lesson to my honored 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 Ave shall have one made in two or three days. The lake is full offish, and it's a pity not to have some while the weather is so fine." "I've plenty of lines in the storeroom," said Mr. Campbell. " Master Percival would soon learn to fish by him- self," 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 100 THE SETTLERS. hunter is always a good fisherman, and don't de- spise them, for they often give him a meal when he would otherwise go to sleep with an empty stom- ach." " Well, I'll catch fish with pleasure," cried Per- tival ; " only I must sometimes go out hunting." " Yes, my dear boy, and we must sometimes go to ^>ed; 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 oft" to milk the cows — not, as usual, attended by some of the young men, for Henry and Alfred were busy, and Captain Sinclair was gone. As they crossed the bridge, Mary observed to her sister, " No more gentlemen to attend us lady-milk- maids, Emma." "No," replied Emma; "our avocation is losing all its charms, and a pleasure now almost settles down to a duty." "Alfred and Henry are with Martin about the fishing-boat," observed Mary. " Yes," replied 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," replied 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 spared from the fort are gone haymaking, and if he is one of the offi- cers sent with the men, of course he will be absent, and if he is left in the fort, he will be obliged to re- main there ; so there is no chance of seeing him un- til the haymaking is over." «■ Where is it that they go to make hay, Mary ?" "You know they have only a sufficiency of pas- ture round the fort for the cattle during the summer, so they go along by the borders of the lake and isl- THE SETTLERS. 101 ands, where they know there are patches of cleat land, cut the grass down, make the hay, and collect it all in the bateaux, 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 ihem 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." } B " 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, laugh- ing ; "but wait till I have learnt 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. Mr. Campbell was out with the boys and Martin, who wished his opinion as to the size of the punt. " How do you do, Mr. Bone ?" said Mary. " Did John shoot that deer?" " Yes ; and shot it as well as an old hunter, and the creatur can hardly lift the gun to his shoulder. Which of you is named Mary?" "I am," said Mary. " Then I've something for you," said old Malachi, pulling from out of his vest a small parcel, wrapped up in thin bark, and handing it to her; "it's a present from the Strawberry." Mary opened the bark, and found inside of it a pair of moccasins, very prettily worked in stained porcupines' quills. 9* 102 THE SETTLERS. " Oh ! how beautiful, and how kind of her ! Tell 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 up the stream to take some trout ; he'll be back to breakfast, and that's just ready. Come, Emma, we must go in with the milk." Mr. Campbell and those who were with him soon returned. Malachi Bone then stated that he had brought the buck killed by John ; and that, if 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 Super, as I said before." " You show great confidence in me, I must say. Well, Bone, I will not cheat you ; but I'm afraid you will be a long while before you are paid, if you only take it out in goods from my storehouse." " All the better, master ; they will last till I die, and then what's left "will do for the boy here," re- plied 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 can not permit him to be always away. I want him to come home on the day after he has been to see you." " Well, that's not reasonable, master. We go out after the game ; who knows where we may find it, how lorifj we may look for it, and how far it may lead oe '. Must we give up the chase when close upon it, because time's up? That'll never do. I want to make the boy a hunter, and he must learn to sleep out and do everything else as concerns a THE SETTLERS. 103 hunter to do. You must let him be with me longer and, if you please, when he comes hack keep him longer ; but if you wish him to be a man, the more he stays with me the better. He shall know all the Indian craft, I promise you, and the winter after this he shall take beavers and bring you the skins." "I think, sir," observed Martin, " it's ail in rea- son, what the old man says." "And so do I," said Alfred; "after all, it's only sending John to "school. Let him go, father, and have him home for the holydays." " I'll always come to you, when I 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 more by John's affection than by compulsion, my dear husband. He says he will always come when he can, and I believe him ; I have, therefore, no objection to let him stay with Malachi Bone, at all events for a week or so at a time." "But his education, my dear." "He is certain to learn nothing now that this fever for the woods, if I may so call it, is upon him. He will, perhaps, be more teachable a year or two hence. You must be aware that we have no common disposition to deal with in that child; and however my maternal feelings may oppose my judg- ment, it is still strong enough to make me feel that my decision is for his benefit. We must not here put the value upon a finished education which we used to do. Let us give him every advantage which the peculiarity of his position will allow us to do; but we are now in the woods, to a certain degree' returned to a slate of nature, and the first and most important knowledge, is to learn to "gain our liveli- hoods." 104 THE SETTLERS. 'Well, my dear, I think you are correct In your views on the subject, and therefore, John, you may go to school with Malachi Bone ; come to see us when you can, and I expect you to turn out the Nimrod of the west." Old Malachi stared at the conclusion of this speech ; Alfred observed his surprise, and burst into a fit of laughter. He then said, " The English of all that is, Malachi, that my brother John has my father's leave to go with you, and you're to make a man of him." " He who made him must make a man of him," replied Bone ; " I can only make him a good hunter, and that I will, if he and I are spared. Now, mas- ter, if Martin will give me the powder and lead, I'll be off again. Is the boy to go?" " Yes, if you desire it," replied Mrs. Campbell ; "come, John, and wish me good-by, and remember your promise." John bade farewell to the whole party with all due decorum, and then trotted off after his schoolmaster. THE SETTLERS. J 03 CHAPTER XIII. In the course of a week or two, things found their places, and the family began to feel more comforta- ble ; tbere was also a degree of regularity and order established, which could not be effected during the time that the soldiers were employed. Mrs. Campbell and Percival took upon them all the work 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, &c. 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 other went out with Martin into the woods to procure food, bringing 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 now permitted to accompany the hunting-parties, and became some- what expert with his rifle. He required only a little more practice to be a good shot. They rose at half-past five — were all assembled to prayers at half-past seven, previous to going to break- fast. They dined at one, and had a combined tea and supper at seven o'clock. At nine o'clock they went to bed. Before two months had passed away, everything went on like clock-work. One day passed away so like another, that the time flew im« 106 THE SETTLERS. perceptibly, and they wondered that the Sundays came round so quick. They had now time to unpack everything, and the books which Mrs. Campbell had selected and brought with her had been arranged on shelves in the parlor ; but they had not as yet much time to read, and were generally too tired before the day was over not to long for their beds. Indeed, the only interval of leisure during the whole day was between supper and bed-time, when they would all assemble in the kitchen and talk over the little matters which had occurred, either during the chase or at home. Bat they were now in the middle of October, the winter was fast approaching, and they looked forward to it with some degree of anx- iety. John had kept his word very sacredly. He was occasionally 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 fin- ished the fishing-punt, and as it was light and easily handled, Henry and Percival went out in it together, and when he was at home, John with Percival 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 communicate 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 wish to have it for winter provision. This offer was gladly accepted, and having partaken of their dinner, Captain Sinclair was obliged to re- turn to the fort, he being that night on duty. Pre- vious, however, to his return, he had some conversa- tion with Martin Super, unobserved by the rest of the party. Afterward he invited Alfred to walk back to the fort with him and return on the following THE SETTLERS. 107 morning. Alfred agreed to do so ; and two hours before it was dark they set off, and as soon as they were on the opposite side of the brook they were joined by Martin Super. " My reasons for asking you to come back with me were twofold," said Captain Sinclair to Alfred. " In the first place, I wish you to know the road to the fort, in case it should be necessary to make any communications during the winter ; secondly, I wish- ed to have some conversation with you and Martin relative to information we have received about the Indians. I can tell you privately wharf I was unwil- ling to say before your mother and cousins, as it would put them in a state of restlessness and anxi- ety, which could avail nothing and only annoy them. I he fact is, we have for some time had information that the Indians have held several councils. It does not appear, however, that they have as yet, decided upon anything, although it is certain that they have gathered together in large numbers not very far irom the fort. No doubt but they have French emissaries inciting them to attack us. From what we can learn, however, they have not agreed amom* themselves, and therefore, in all probability, nothing will be attempted until next year, for the autumn is their season for sending out their war-parties. At the same time, there is no security, for there is a great difference between a junction of all the tribes against us and a common Indian war-party. We must, therefore, be on the alert, for we have a treach- erous foe to deal with. And now, for your por- tion ol interest in this affair. If they attack the fort, which they may do, notwithstanding our treaties with them, you of course would not be safe where you are ; but, unfortunately, you may not be safe even if we are not molested ; for when the Indians collect (even though the main body decide upon nothing), there are always bands of five to ten In- dians, who, having left their homes, will not return if they can help it, without some booty; these are 108 THE SETTLERS. not regular warriors, or if warriors, not much es- teemed by the tribe ; in i'act, they are the worst classes of Indians, who are mere robbers and ban- ditti. You must, therefore, be on the lookout for the visits of these people. It is fortunate for you that old Bone has shifted his abode so many miles to the westward, and that you are on such good terme with him, as it is not very likely that any party oi Indians can approach you without his meeting with them or their track during his excursions." " That's true, captain," observed Martin, " and. I will go myself and put him on his guard." M But, will they not attack him before they attack us ?" said Alfred. "Why should they ?" replied Sinclair. " He is as much an Indian almost as they are, and is well known to most of them. Besides, what would they gain by attacking him ? These straggling parties, which you have to fear, are in quest of booty, and will not expect to find anything in his wigwam ex- cept a few furs. No ; they will not venture near his rifle, which they fear, when there is nothing to be obtained by so doing. I mention this to you, Alfred, that you may be prepared to keep a sharp look-out. It is very possible that nothing of the kind may occur, and that the winter may pass away without any danger, and I mention it to you and Martin, as I consider that the probabilities are not sufficient to warrant your alarming the other mem- bers of the family, especially the female portion of it. How far you may consider it advisable to com- municate 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 parties of marauders, and I think you are quite strong enough, both in numbers and in the defences of your habita- tion, to resist them successfully, if you are not sud- THE SETTLERS. 109 denly surprised. That is all that you have to fear; and now that you are warned, half the danger is over." & "Well, captain, I'll leave you now," said Martin, " I shall go over to old Malachi's to-night ; for it occurs to me that any attack is more likely to be made between the fall of the leaf and the fall of the snow than afterward ; so the sooner I put Malachi on his guard the better. Good evening, sir." Captain Sinclair and Alfred continued on their way to the fort. They had contracted a strong friend- ship, and were unreserved in their communication with each other. " You have no idea, Alfred," said Captain Sinclair, " how the peculiar position of your family occupies my thoughts. It really appears almost like mad- ness on the part of your father to bring out your mother and cousins to such a place, and expose them j such privations and dangers. I can hardly sleep at night Avhen I reflect upon what might happen." " I believe," replied Alfred, " that if my father had known exactly what his present position would have been, he would have decided upon not leaving England ; but you must remember that he came out with much encouragement, and the idea that he would only have to surmount the hardships of a set- tler in clearing his land. He fancied, at least I'm sure we all did, that we should be surrounded by other farmers, and have no particular danger to in- cur. When at Quebec, he found that all the good land near to civilization was bought up or possessed by the French Canadians; he was advised to come further westward by those who ought to have been aware of what we would have to encounter by so doing, bm who probably considered that the danger we now apprehend no longer existed ; and he has followed that advice which I have no doubt was con- scientiously given. I think myself, even now, that the advice was good, although we are accompanied by females who have been brought up in so different Vol. L— 10 110 THE SETTLERS. a sphere, and for whose welfare such anxiety is shown ; for observe now, Sinclair, suppose, without having made our acquaintance, you had heard that some settlers, men and women, had located them- selves where we have done ; should you have con- sidered it so very rash an undertaking, presuming that they were merely farmers and farmers' wives?" "I certainly should have troubled myself very lit- tle about them, and perhaps not thought upon the subject." " But supposing that the subject had been brought up at the lurt, and you heard that the parties had a stockaded house and four or five good rifles to depend upon, with the fort to fall back upon if necessary ?" " I admit that I should most probably have said that they were in a position to protect themselves." " Most assuredly, and therefore we are equally so ; your feelings of interest in us magnify the danger, and I therefore trust that in future you will not al- low our position to interfere with your night's rest." " I wish I could bring myself to that feeling of security, Alfred. If I were only with you, to assist in protecting them, I should sleep sound enough." " Then you would not be of much use as a watch," replied Alfred, laughing. " Never fear, Sinclair, we shall do well enough," continued he, "and if we re- quire assistance, we will apply for you and a party of soldiers." " There would be much difficulty about that, Al- fred," replied Captain Sinclair; "if there were suf- ficient danger to make that demand upon the com- mandant, the same danger would require that he should not weaken his force in the fort ; no, you would have 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 could send the women. But the Indians have not come yet, and we must hope that they will not." THE SETTLERS. Ill The conversation was then changed, and in half an hour more they arrived at the fort. Alfred was welcomed at the fort by Colonel Fors- ter, with whom he was a great favorite. The colo* nel could not refrain from expressing his opinion, that Mr. Campbell and his family were in a position of some danger, and lamenting that flie female por- tion of the family, who had been brought up with such very different prospects, should be so situated. He even ventured to hint that if Mrs. Campbell and the two Misses Percival would pass the winter in the fort, he would make arrangements to accommo- date them. But Alfred at once replied, that he was convinced no inducement would persuade his mother or cousins to leave his father: they had shared his prosperity, and they would cling to him in his ad- versity ; that they all were aware of what they would have to risk before they came out, and his father preferred a life of honorable independence at- tended with danger, to seeking the assistance of others. " But still I can not perceive any reason for the ladies remaining to encounter the danger." " The more we are, the stronger we are to repel danger," replied Alfred. " But women, surely, will only be an incum- brance !" " I think differently," replied Alfred. " Young and delicate as my cousins are, they will not shrink any more than my mother when their services are required. They now can all of them use a rifle, if required, and to defend, a house, a determined woman is almost as effective as a man. Depend upon it, if it comes to the necessity, they will do so. You see, therefore, colonel, that by taking away our ladies, you will weaken our force," continued Alfred laugh- ing. "Well, my dear fellow, I will press it no more. Only recollect that I shall always be ready to send you any assistance when required." 112 THE SETTLERS. " I have been thinking, Colonel Forster, that, aa we have no horses at present, if you have any rock- ets they might be useful in such a case. At the dis- tance we are from you a rocket would be seen im- mediately if fired at night, and I promise you, that it shall not be fired without great necessity. " " I am glad that you have mentioned it, Alfred ; . you shall have a dozen to take with you. You go back with the boats that carry the hay to-morrow morning, do you not V " Yes; I shall take that opportunity to save wear- ing out my shoes, as we have no cobbler near to us. I presume it will be the last trip made by the boats this season." "Yes," replied the colonel, " the frost will soon set in now. In another fortnight we shall probably be visited with a heavy fall of snow, and the ground will then be covered till the spring. But I suppose we shall see or hear from you occasionally ?" "Yes; as soon as I can push along in my snow- shoes, I will pay you a visit," replied Alfred ; " but I have that art to learn yet." The following morning the sky was clear and the day brilliant. The sun shone upon the dark scarlet- tinged foliage of the oaks and through the transpa- rent yellow leaves of the maple. A slight frost had appeared for two or three mornings aboul a month back, and now they were enjoying what was termed the Indian summer, which is a return of fair and rather warm weather for a short time previous to the winter setting in. The soldiers were busy carrying the hay down to the bateaux, and, before noon, Alfred bade farewell to Colonel Forster and the other officers of the fort, and accompanied by Captain Sinclair, went down to embark. All was ready, and Alfred stepped into the boat; Captain Sinclair being on duty and not able to accompany him back. " I shall not fail to give directions to the sentries about the rockets, Alfred," said Captain Sinclair, THE SETTLERS. 113 "and so tell your mother and cousins ; and mind to show them how to fire them off from out of the bar- rel of a musket. Good-by ; God bless you, my dear fellow." " Good-by," replied Alfred, as the boats pulled from the shore. CHAPTER XIV. After Alfred's return from the fort, a few days passed away without any incident ; Martin had paid a visit to Malachi Bone, who had promised that he would be on the lookout and would give immediate information and assistance in case of any hostile measures on the part of the Indians. He told Mar- tin, that in a few days he would discover what had taken place and what might be looked forward to. When Martin returned with this communication, Alfred was satisfied, and did not acquaint anybody except his brother Henry with the information which he had received from Captain Sinclair. The monotony of their life was, however, broken in upon by the arrival of a corporal from the fort, who was the bearer of the first despatches which they had received since their arrival at the settle- ment. Letters, yes letters, not only from Quebec but from England, were announced. The whole house was in confusion, all crowding round Mr. Campbell while he unsealed the large packet. First a bundle of English newspapers from the governor of Quebec — these were laid aside; a letter from Mr. Campbell's agent at Quebec— this was on business and could wait his leisure ; then the letters from England — two long, well-filled double letters from Miss Paterson to Mary and Emma; another from Mr. Campbell's agent in England, and a large one on foolscap paper with " On His Majesty's Service," 10* 114 THE SETTLERS. directed to Mr. Alfred Campbell. Each party seized upon their letters, and hastened on one side with them. Mrs. Campbell being the only one who had no correspondent, anxiously watched the countenance of Alfred, who, after a hasty glance, cried out, "I am confirmed to rny rank, my dear mother ; I am a lieutenant in his Majesty's service — huzza ! Here's a letter enclosed from Captain Lumley ; I know his handwriting." Alfred received the congratulations of the whole party, handed the official letter to his mother, and then commenced the perusal of the one from Captain Lumley. After a short silence, during which they were all occupied with their correspond- ence, Mr. Campbell said, " I also have good news to communicate to you ; Mr. H. writes to me to say, that Mr. Douglas Campbell, on finding the green- houses and hot-houses so well stocked, considered that he was bound to pay for the plants; that they have been valued at seven hundred pounds, and that he has paid that money into my agent's hands. This is extremely liberal of Mr. Douglas Campbell, and I certainly did not expect, as I found plants there on my taking possession, that I was entitled to any re- muneration for what I left. However, I am too poor to refuse his offer from any feelings of delicacy, and shall therefore write and thank him for his generous behavior." Alfred had read the letter from Cap- tain Lumley, which made him very thoughtful. The fact was, that his promotion and the observations in Captain Lumley's letter had brought back all his former regret at having quitted the service, and he was very melancholy in consequence ; but as his cousins read their letters aloud, he gradually re- covered his spirits. At last, all the letters were read, and then the newspapers were distributed. No more work was done that day, and in the evening they all sat round the kitchen fire and talked over the intelligence they had received until long after their usual time of re- tiring to bed. THE SETTLERS. 115 " I have been thinking, my dear Emily," said Mr. Campbell, the next morning "before they quitted their sleeping-room, " what a very seasonable supply of money this will be. My funds, as you have seen by the account of my Quebec agent, were nearly ex- hausted, and Ave have many things yet to procure. We shall require horses next year, and we must increase our stock in every way ; indeed, if we could have another man or two, it would be very advan- tageous, as the sooner we clear the ground, the sooner Ave shall be independent." "I agree Avith you, Campbell; besides, we shall now have Alfred's half-pay, poor felloAv, which will help us very much ; I have been thinking more of him than anything else this night ; I watched him Avhen he read Captain Lumley's letter, and I well understood the cause of his seriousness for some time afterAvard ; I almost feel inclined to let him return to his profession ; it Avould be painful parting with him, but the sacrifice on his partis very great." "Still it's his duty," replied Mr. Campbell, "and, moreover, absolutely necessary at present, that he should remain Avith us. When Ave are more settled and mote independent of his assistance, weAvill talk over the subject." In the meantime, Mary and Emma had gone out as usual to milk the cows. It was a beautiful clear day, but there Avas a bracing air which cheered the spirits, and the sunshine Avas pleasantly warm in situations sheltered from the Avinds ; one of the few fine days just before the rushing in of winter. They had milked their cows, and had just turned them out again, when they both sat doAvn with their pails before them on a log, which Avas in front of Mala- chi's lodge, noAv used as a cow-house. " Do you know, Mary, "said Emma, after a pause, " I'm almost sorrv that I have received a letter from Miss Paterson." " Indeed, dear Emma !" " Yes, indeed, it has unsettled me. I did nothing ,16 THE SETTLERS. but dream all last night. Everything was recalled to my mind — all that I most wished to forget. I fancied myself again engaged in all the pursuits of our much-loved home ; I was playing the harp, you were accompanying on the piano as usual; we walked oul in the shrubberies ; we took an airing in the carriage ; all the servants were before me ; we went to the village and to the almshouses ; we were in the garden picking dahlias and roses ; I was just going up to dress for a large dinner-party, and had rung ihe bell for Simpson, when I woke up, and found myself in a log-hut, with my eyes fixed upon the rafters and bark covering of the roof, thousands of miles from Wexton Hall, and half an hour longer in bed than a dairy-maid should be." " I will confess, my dear Emma, that I passed much such a night ; old associations will rise up again when so forcibly brought to our remembrance as they have been by Miss Paterson's letters, but I strove all I could to banish them from my mind, and not indulge in useless repining." " Repine, I do not, Mary, at least, I hope not, but one can not well help regretting; I can not help re- membering, as Macduff says, that ' such things were.'" "He might well say so, Emma ; for what had he lost? his wife and all his children, ruthlessly mur- dered ; hut what have we lost in comparison ? noth- ing- -a few luxuries. Have we not our health and spirits? Have we not our kind uncle and aunt, who have fostered us — our cousins so attached to us? Had it not been for the kindness of our uncle and aunt, who have brought us up as their own children, should we, poor orphans, have ever been partakers of those luxuries which you now regret? Ought we not rather to thank Heaven that circumstances have enabled us to show some gratitude for benefits heaped upon us ? How much greater are these pri- vations \o my uncle and aunt now that they are so much more advanced in years, and have been so THE SETTLERS. 117 much longer accustomed to competence and ease ; and shall we repine or even regret, unless it is on their account? surely, my dear Emma, not on our own." "I feel the truth of all you say, Mary," replied Emma ; " nay all that you have now said passed in my own mind, and I have argued to myself in almost the same words, but I fear that I am not quite so mu.:h of a philosopher as you are ; and, acknowledg- ing that what you say is correct, I still have the same feeling — that is, I wish that I had not received the tetter from Miss Paterson." "In that wish there can be no harm, for it is only wishing that you may not be tempted to repine." " Exactly, my dear Mary ; I am a daughter of Eve," replied Emma, laughing, and rising from her seat ; "I will put away Miss Paterson's letter, and 1 dare say in a day or two shall have forgotten all about it. Dear Alfred, how glad I am that he is promoted ! I shall call him Lieutenant Campbell till he is sick of it. Come, Mary, or we shall be keeping my uncle waiting ; come, Juno." Emma's calling Juno to follow her, reminds me that I have not yet introduced the dogs to my little readers, and as they will have to play their parts in our history, I may as well do so at once. Captain Sinclair, it may be remembered, had procured five dogs for Mr. Campbell from the officers of the fort — two terriers, which were named Trim and Snob ; Trim was a small dog and kept in the house, but Snob was a very powerful bull-terrier, and very sav- age ; a fox-hound bitch, the one which Emma had just called Juno ; Bully, a very fine young bull-dog, and Sancho, an old pointer. At nighi, these dogs were tied up : Juno in the storehouse ; Bully and Snob at the door of the house, within the palisade ; Trim in doors, and old Sancho at the lodge of Mala- chi Bon^, where the cows were put in at night. Mr. Campbell found it rather expensive at first feeding these dugs, but as soon as Martin and his compan- 118 THE SETTLERS. ions brought home game, there was always plenty for them all. They were all very shfcrp and high- couraged dogs, for they had been born in the fort, and had been brought up to hunting every kind of game indiscriminately ; and I need hardly add that they were excellent watch-dogs, and considered by Mr. Campbell as a great protection. For the next two days, the family remained ra- 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, how- ever, was now becoming much colder, and for the last two days the sun had not shone. The sky was of one uniform murky solemn gray ; and everything announced that the winter was close at hand. Mar- tin, who had been hunting, when he came home bade them prepare for an immediate change in the weather, and his prediction was speedily verified. THE SETTLERS. H9 CHAPTER XV. It was on the Saturday evening, when they had all assembled round the fire, for it was more cold than it had hitherto been, that the moaning of the wind among the trees of the forest announced a gale of wind from the northward. "We shall have it soon," observed Martin, "win- ter 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 storehouse, John," said Martin, " and then we shall see how you can get over the ground with them when you go out hunting. You have not shot a moose yet." "Is the moose the same as the elk, Martin," said Henry. " I do not think it is, sir ; yet I've heard both names giver, to the animal." "Have you ever shot any ?" said Mrs. Campbell. "Yes, ma'am, many a one. They're queer ani- mals ; they don't run like the other deer, but they trot as fast as the others run, so it comes to the same thing. They are very shy, and difficult 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 floun- der about till they are overtaken. You see, Master Percival, the moose can't put on snow-shoes like we can, and that gives us the advantage ov*>r the ani- mal." 6 120 THE SETTLERS. "Are they dangerous animals, Martin ?" inquired Mary Percival. "Every large animal is more or less dangerous when it turns to bay, miss. A moose's horns some- times 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 dare say you will, as soon as you can manage your snow-shoes," replied Martin. " The wind is getting up higher. I guess you'll not find your 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 I feel the cold very sensibly." " Yes, ma'am ; but as soon as the snow is down, you'll be warmer." " It is time to go to bed," observed Mr. Campbell, "so put away your work; and, Henry, give me down the Bible." During that night the gale increased to almost a hurricane ; the trees of the forest clashed and crackled, groaned and sawed their long arms against each other, creating an unusual and almost appal- ling 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 outside, and the increased feeling of cold. It was also the first trial of this new house in severe weath- er, and some of the wakeful party \vere anxiously watching the result. Toward the morning the storm abated, and everything was again quiet. In conse- quence of the restless night which they had passed, they were not so early as usual. Emma 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 east three feet deep on the ground, ami in some THE SETTLERS. 121 places had been drifted up higher than their heads. ♦'Why. Alfred!" cried Emma, "how shall we be able to go after the cows this morning ? This is, in- deed, winter come on with little warning." " It still snows," observed Mary ; "not much, in- deed, but the sky is very black." " Yes, miss : we shall have some more of it yet," observed Martin. " Mr. Campbell and Mr. Henry have gone to the storehouse for more shovels, for we must work hard, and clear a footpath, and then get the snow up against the palisades." "What a sudden change !" said Emma ; "I wish the sky would cease, and then I should not care." " It will to-morrow, Miss Emma, I dare say ; but the snow must come down first." Martin and Alfred had only time to clear a path to the storehouse ; Mr. Campbell and Henry re- turned with more shovels, and as soon as breakfast was over, they commenced work. As for Mary and Emma going to milk the cows, that was impossible. Martin undertook that task until they had cleared a pathway to the hunter's lodge, in which the animals were shut up every night. By the advice of Martin, the snow next the pali- sades was piled up against the palings like a wall, as high as they could reach or throw it, by which means they got rid of the snow about the house, and at the same time formed a barrier against the freez- ing winds which they had to expect. All wc:ked hard ; Percival and John were of great use, and even Mrs. Campbell and the girls assisted collecting the remainder of the snow, and clearing it off the win- dow-sills and other parts. By noon the snow left off falling, the sky cleared up, and the sun shone bright, although it gave out but little warmth. After dinner they renewed their labors, and com- menced clearing away a path to the lodge, where the cows were locked in, and before nightfall they had accomplished their task as far as the bridge over the stream, which was about half way. It had Vol. I.— 11 12£ THE SETTLERS. been -i day of great fatigue, and they were glad to reihe to rest. Mrs. Campbell and the girls had put an adJitional supply of blankets and skins upon the beds, for the cold was now intense, and the ther- mometer stood far below the freezing point. The following morning they resumed their task; the sky was still unclouded, and the sun shone out clear and bright. By dinner-time, the path to the cow-house had been completed ; and the men then employed themselves in carrying as much firewood as they could, before it was dark, within the pali- sades. " Well," observed Alfred, " now things may go on as usual within doors ; and what have we to do out, Martin ?" " You must first get on your show-shoes, and .earn to walk in them," observed Martin ; " or oth- erwise you'll be a prisoner as well as the ladies. You see, John, you are not at Malachi's lodge." " G-o to-morrow," replied John. " No, not to-morrow, for I must go with you," said Martin ; " I can not trust you for finding your way ; and I can not go to-morrow, nor the next day nei- ther. We must kill our beef to-morrow ; there's no fear but it will keep all the winter now, and we shall save our hay." " My larder is but poorly furnished," observed Mrs. Campbell. " Never mind, ma'am, we'll soon have something in it, which will save our beef. In another week you shall have it well stocked." "John," said Mr. Campbell, " recollect you must not go away without Martin." " 1 won't," replied John. All the game in the larder having been consumed, they sat down to salt-pork and some of the fish which had been cured. The latter was pronounced to be excellent. " What is the name of this fish, Martin ?" "It is called the white-fish," replied MartiD; THE SETTLERS. 12? " and I have heard gentry from the old country say that they have none better, if any so good." " It. is certainly most excellent," replied Mr. Camp- bell, " and we will not forget to have a good pro- vision for next winter, if it pleases God to spare our lives." " Where were you born, Martin?" said Henry, aa they were sitting round the kitchen fire, as usual, in the evening. " Why, Mr. Henry, I was horn at Quebec : my father was a corporal in the army under General Wolfe, and was wounded in the great battle fought between him and the Frenchman Montcalm." " In which both generals were killed, but the vic- tory was to us." " So I've heard, sir," replied Martin -" my mother was an Englishwoman, and I was boffi about four years after the surrender of Quebec ; my mother died soon afterward, but my father was alive about five years ago, I believe. I can't exactly say, as I was for three or four years in the employ of the fur company, and when I returned, I found that he was? dead." " And you have been a hunter all your life ?" " Not all my life, and not exactly a hunter. I cal« myself a trapper, but I still am both. I first wat out with the Indians when I was about fourteen, for you see my father wanted to make me a drummer, and I could not stand that ; so I said to him, ' Fa thei, I Avon't be a drummer.' — 'Well,' says he, ' Mar tin, you must help yourself, for all my'interest lie' in the army.'—' So I will,' savs I ; ' father, I'm ofl for the woods.'— 'Well,' says 'he, 'just as you like Martin.' So one fine day I wished him good-bv, ana did not see him again for more than two years." " Well, and what took place then ?" " Why, I brought home three or four packages of good skins, and sold them well. Father was so pleased, that he talked of turning trapper himself: but, as I told the old man, a man with a lame leg 124 THE SETTLERS. — for he had been wounded in the leg, and halted— would not make his livelihood by hunting in the woods of Canada." " Was your father still in the army ?" " No, ma'am, he was not in the army ; but he was employed in the storekeeper's department : they gave him the birth on account of his wound." " Well— go on, Martin." "I hav'n't much more to say, ma'am. I brought home my furs, sold them, and father helped me tr spend the money as long as he was alive, and very welcome he was to his share. I felt rather queer when I came back from the fur company and found that the old man was dead, for I had looked forward with pleasure to the old man's welcome, and his enjoying his frolic with me as usual." " I'm afraid those frolics were not very wise, Martin." " No, sir, they were very foolish, I believe ; but 1 fear it will always be the case with us trappers. We are like sailors: we do not know what to do with money when we get it ; so we throw it away, and the sooner the better, for it is our enemy while we have it. I assure you, sir, that I used to feel quite happy when all my money was gone, and I was set- ting off to the woods again. It's a hard life, but a life that unfits you for any other ; a life which you become very fond .of. I don't mind being here with you, by way of a change ; indeed, as long as there is hunting, it is almost as good as if I were in the woods, but else I think I shall die a trapper." "But, Martin," said Mr. Campbell, "how much more wise it would be to put your money by, and after a time purchase a farm and settle down a steady man with property, perhaps married, and the father of a family." '• Perhaps it might be ; but if I do not like it so well as trapping, I don't see why I should do so: it would be changing my life to please others and not myself." THE SETTLERS. 125 "That's very true, Martin,'" said Alfred, laughing. "Perhaps Martin may change his mind before he is an old man," replied Mrs. Campbell. " Dear me ! what noise was that ?" exclaimed Mrs. Campbell, as a melancholy howl was heard without. " Only a rascally wolf, ma'am," said Martin ; " we must expect the animals to be about us now that the snow has fallen, and the winter has set in." "A wolf! are they not dangerous, Martin?" in- quired Mary Percival. " That depends, miss, how hungry they may be; but they are not very fond of attacking a human be- ing : if we had any sheep outside, I fancy that they would stand a bad chance." The howl was repeated, when one or two of the dogs which had been admitted into the house, and were stretched before the fire, roused up and growled. " They hear him, ma'am, and if we were to let them out, would soon be at him. No, no, John, sit still and put down your rifle ; we can't afford to hurt wolves : their skins won't fetch a half dollar, and their flesh is not fit for a dog— let alone a Chris- tian. Let the vermin howl till he is tired ; he'll be off to the woods again before daylight." " There is certainly something very melancholy and dreadful to me in that howl," said Emma ; " it frightens me." "What, Emma, afraid?" said Alfred, going to her ; " why yes, really she trembles ; why, my dear Emma, do you recollect how frightened you and Mary were at the noise of the frogs when you first came here? — you got used to it very soon, and so you will to the howling of a wolf." "There is some difference, Alfred," replied Em- ma, shuddering as the howl was repeated. " I don't know how it is," said she, rallying her spirits, "but I believe it was reading Little Red Riding Hood when I was a child, which has given me such a hor- 11* 126 THE SETTLERS. ror 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 Ave 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 that you can load and fire them yourselves ? The practice you had during the fine weather has not been thrown away, has it, dear Emma ?" " No, it has not, and I am very glad that I did learn il : I am a coward in apprehension, Alfred, but perhaps if I was put to the test, I should behave better." " That I really believe," replied Alfred ; " a gale of wind at sea sounds very awful when down below, jerking about in your hammock ; but when on deck, you don't care a fig about it. Now the rifles are all loaded, and we may go to bed and sleep sound." They did retire to rest, but all parties did not sleep very sound ; the howling of one wolf was answered by another ; Emma and Mary embraced each other, and shuddered as they heard the sounds, and it was long before they forgot their alarm and were asleep. THE SETTLERS. 127 CHAPTER XVI. The next morning was bright and clear, and when Emma 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 coun- try covered with snow, and the spruce firs with their branches loaded, presented an alternate layer of pure white and of the darkest green. Birds there were none to be seen or heard. All was quiet, so quiet that as they stepped along the path which had been cleared away to the cow-house, they almost startled at the sound of their own voices, which the atmosphere rendered mor,e peculiarly sonorous and ringing. 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 maybe," replied Emma, "but still we are very glad of your company." They arrived at the cow-house without any ad- venture, 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 re- tracing their steps, " I must say that it would not only be more con- 128 THE SETTLERS. venient but more agreeable if tbe cows were kep\ nearer to the house." " It would be, certainly," replied Alfred. " It is a pity that there is not a cow-shed within the pali- sades ; but we have no means of making one at present. Next year, when my father has purchased his horses and his sheep, which he talks of doing, we are to build a regular yard and sheds for all the animals close to the house, and palisaded round as the house now is, with a passage from one palisade to the other. Then it will be very convenient; but 'Rome was not built in one day,' as the proverb says ; and we must, therefore, wait another winter." " And be devoured by the wolves in the mean- time," replied Emma, laughing. " Why, you are getting over your fright already, Emma." " Yes ; I feel pretty bold, now I think there is nothing to be afraid of." The remainder of the week was passed away in practising upon the snow-shoes by the males of the pariy, the women scarcely ever venturing out of doors, as the cold was very severe. Mary and Em- ma 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 nev- er made their appearance by daylight, and went as before to milk the cows by themselves. On the Sat- urday, they were in the hopes of seeing old Malachi Bone, but 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 ascertain if he had made any discoveries rela- te) the Indians. Sunday, as usual, was a day of rest from labor ; the services were read by Mr. Campbell, and the evening passed in serious conver- sation. Mr. Campbell, although usually in g<%d spirits, was certainly not so on that evening ; wheth- THE SETTLERS. 129 er it -was that the severity of the winter which had 6et 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 their former residence when in England, which was a very unusual thing for him to do, and by degrees the conversation was turned in that direction, and, although no one said so, they all felt what a change there was in their present posi- tion from that which they had been forced to leave. Mrs. Campbell, who perceived that a gloom was gathering over the whole party, made several re- marks tending to reconcile them to their present lot, and, after a time Mr. Campbell observed — "Perhaps, my dear children, it maybe a divine mercy which has sent you here to this wilderness ; true it is that we are removed from civilization, and shut up here by a severe winter, deprived of the en- joyments and pleasures which were to be found in the society which we were compelled to leave ; but let us also bear in mind that we are removed from the many temptations which might there have as- sailed us."' "But still, papa, you would be very glad if cir- cumstances would permit us to return to England ; would you notl" said Percival. "Yes, my child, I should, and even if I had re- mained here so long as to have become attached to the place and to the isolation which at first is felt so irksome, I would still return to England and to so- ciety, if I had the means. As Christians, we are not to fly from the world and its temptations, but to buckle on our armor, and putting our trust in Him who will protect us, fight the good fight ; that is, doing our duty in that state of life to which it shall please God to call us." " But if ever we were to return to England, there would be no chance of our living as we did before we left it, would thtre, papa?" " I see none, my dear boy ; but we never know 130 THE SETTLERS. what is in store for us. Should any of us ever re- turn, I presume it would be to live in a more hum- ble way ; and for my part, I should prefer that it were so, for although I trust I did not greatly misuse that wealth which I so long supposed to be mine, 1 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 ihat I might have done more good with it. Bat the fact is, my dear children, there is nothing so dangerous to our eternal welfare as great wealth ; it tends to harden the heart by affording the means of constant self-indulgence : under such circumstances, man is apt to become selfish, easily satisfied with his own works, and too proud to see his errors. Did you observe in the Litany, which I read at this morning's service, how very appropri- ately is inserted the prayer for deliverance under the perils of wealth? — • : ' In all time of ourtribulation, in all time of our wealth, in the hour of death, and in the day of judg- ment, good Lord deliver us.' "Examine this, my dear children : in time of our tribulation — that is in poverty and distress, and per- haps famishing from want (and in lew positions are people so incited to crimed, then in all time of our wealth, evidently and distinctly placing wealth as more dangerous to the soul's welfare than the ex- tremest poverty and its accompanying temptations ; ana 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 speaking, and there was a pause for a minute or two in the conversation, when THE SETTLERS. 131 Mary Percival said, " What then, my dear uncle, do you consider as the most enviable position in life ?" •'I consider a moderate independence as the most enviable ; not occupied in trade, as the spirit of bar- ter is too apt to make us bend to that which is ac- tually fraud. I should say, a country gentleman living on his own property and among his own ten- ants, employing the poor around him, holds a posi- tion in which he has the least temptation to do wrong, and the most opportunities of doing good." " I agree with you, my dear Campbell," said his wife ; " and yet how few are satisfied even with that lot." " Because the craving after wealth is so strong, that every one would have more than he hath, and few men will be content. This desire of aggrandize- ment overcomes and masters us ; and vet, what can be more absurd than to witness the care and anxiety of those to gain riches, who have already more per- haps 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 actuated by the avarice of hoard- ing it up, but by the appetite for expending it ; who collect unjustly that they may lavish profusely ; these are equally foolish, and how important is that les- son given in the Scriptures." Mr. Campbell opened the Bible which lay before him, and read— " And he spake a'parable unto them. The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully. " And he said, What shall I do ? because 1 have no room where to bestow my fruits. "And he said : This will I do ; I will pull down my barns and build greater, and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods. "And I will say to my soul: Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years, take thine ease; eat, drink, and be merry. 132 THE SETTLERS. "But God said unto him: Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee." After a short silence, Mrs. Campbell observed, "1 have often reflected since I have been here upon what might have been our position had we decided upon remaining in England. We might at this mo- ment have been in the greatest distress, even want- ing a meal ; and I have, therefore, often thanked God that he left us the means of comiag here and providing for ourselves as we have done, and as I have no doubt shall, with his blessing, continue to do. How much better off are we at this moment than many thousands of our countrymen who re- main in England. How many are starving ! How many are driven into crime from want ! while we have a good roof over our heads, sufficient clothing, and more than sufficient food. We have, therefore, great reason to thank God for the mercies he has vouchsafed to us ; he has heard our prayer, ' Give us this day our daily bread.'" " Yes," continued Mr. Campbell, " ' Give 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 asked at meals, which is by roo many considered as a mere matter of form. They forget that He who gives can also take away ; a^id in their presumption, suppose their own ability aad exertion to have been the sole means of procuring themselves a daily supply of food ; thanking them- selves rather than the Giver of all good. How many thousands are there who have been supplied with more than they require from their cradle down to their grave, without any grateful feeling toward Heaven ; considering the 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 labor may procure him and his family a meal for the mor- row, who often suffers privation and hunger, and THE SETTLERS. 133 what is more painful, witnesses the sufferings 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 pillows, not only with resignation, but with thank- fulness 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 Providence. CHAPTER XVII. On the Monday morning, Alfred and Martin went to the cow-house, and slaughtered the bullock which they had obtained from the commandant of the fort. When it was skinned it was cut up, and carried to the storehouse, where it was hung up for their win- ter consumption. As the party were sitting down to dinner, they were greeted by Captain Sinclair and a young lieu- tenant of the garrison. It hardly need be said that the whole family were delighted to see them. They had come overland in their snow-shoes, and brought some partridges or grouse, as they are sometimes cal/ed, which they had shot on their way. Captain Sinclair had obtained leave from the commandant to come over and see how the Campbells were getting on. He had no news of any importance, as they had had no recent communication 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, and talked more than they ate, asking questions about everything. "By-the-by, Mr. Campbell, where have you built your pig-sties?" Vol. I.— 12 134 THE SETTLERS. "Inside the palisade, next to the fowl-house. ' ? " That is well," replied Captain Sinclair, " for oth- erwise you may be troubled by the wolves, who are very partial to pork or mutton." "We have been troubled with them," replied Emma ; " at least with their howlings 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." "You 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 in 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 pro- posed 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, Al- fred," said Mr. Campbell. "We have sufficient dan- ger 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 informa- tion relative to the Indians. Alfred replied, that they expected him every day, but as yet had not received any communication from him. Captain Sinclair Elated that they were equally ignorant at the fort as THE SETTLERS. 135 to what had been finally arranged, and that Colonel Forster was in hopes that the hunter would by this have obtained some intelligence. " 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 impa- tient to go." "Well, I hope he will ; I shall be glad to have some- thing to tell the colonel, as I made the request upon that ground. I believe, however, he was very wil- ling 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, ana so is Emma, I think. She has grown half a head since she left England. By-the-by, you have to congratulate 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 upon these snow-shoes. If, however, the old hunter does not come to-morrow, I will go to the fort as soon as he brings 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 young- er male portion of the family slept, and which, as we before stated, had two spare bed-places. The next morning Captain Sinclair would have ac- companied the Miss Percivals on their milking ex- pedition, 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. Camp- bell. John, after a time, having as usual rubbed down his rifle, threw it on his shoulder, and, calling 136 THE SETTLERS. the dogs which lay ahout, 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 disappointment at not being per- mitted to accompany them. They had just arrived at the cow-house, when old Sancho barked furiously, and sprang to the side of the building behind them, and in a moment afterward rolled down the snow heap which he had sprang over, holding on and held fast by a lanje black wolf. The struggle was not very long, and during the time that it lasted the girls were so panic-struck that they remained like statues within two yards of the animals. Gradually 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, his tongue hanging out, bleeding profusely, and lifeless. As soon as his adversary was overpowered, the enraged animal, with his feet upon the body of the dog, bristling his hair and showing his powerful teeth, was evi- dently about to attack the young women. Emma threw her arms round Mary's waist, advancing her body so as to save her sister. Mary attempted the same, and then they remained waiting in horror for the expected spring of the animal, when of a sudden the other dogs came rushing forward, cheered on by John, and flew upon the animal. Their united strength soon tore him down to the ground, and John coming up, as the wolf defended himself against his new assailants, put the muzzle of his rifle to the an- imal's head, and shot it dead. The two sisters had held up during the whole of this alarming struggle ; but as soon as they perceived the wolf was dead and that they were safe, Mary could stand no longer, and sank down on her knees, sup- porting her sister, who had become insensible. If John showed gallantry in shooting the wolf, he THE SETTLERS. 137 certainly showed very little toward his cousins. He looked at Mary, nodded his head toward the wolf's body, and saying "He's dead," shouldered his rifle, turned round, and walked back to the house. On his return, he found that the party had just come back from hauling up the punt, and were wait- ing the return of the Miss Percivals to go to break- fast. " Was that you that fired just now, John ?" said Martin. " Yes," replied John. "What did you fire at?" said Alfred. " A wolf," replied John. "A wolf! where?" said Mr. Campbell. " At the cow-lodge," replied John. " At the cow-lodge !" said his father. "Yes; killed Sancho!" "Killed Sancho! why, Sancho was with your cousins !" "Yes," replied John. "Then, where did you leave them?" " With the wolf," replied John, wiping his rifle very coolly. " Merciful Heaven !" cried Mr. Campbell, as Mrs. Campbell turned pale ; and Alfred, Captain Sinclair, Manin, and Henry, seizing their rifles, darted out from the house, and ran with all speed in the direc- tion of the cow-house. " My poor girls !" exclaimed Mr. Campbell. "Wolf's dead, father," said John. "Dead! Why didn't you say so, you naughty boy ?" cried Mrs. Campbell. " I wasn't asked," replied John. In the meantime the other party had gained the cow-house ; and, to their horror, beheld the wolf and dog dead, and the two young women lying on the snow close to the two animals ; for Mary had fainted away shortly after John had walked off. They rushed toward the bodies of the two girls, and soon discovered that they were not hurt. In a short time, 138 THE SETTLERS. they were recovered and were supported by the young men to the house. As soon as they arrived, Mrs. Campbell took them into their room, that they might rally their spirits, and in a quarter of an hour returned to the party out- side, who eagerly inquired how they were. " They are much more composed," replied Mrs. Campbell ; " and Emma has begun to laugh again ; but her laugh is rather hysterical and forced ; they will come out at dinner-time. It appears that they are indebted to John for their preservation, for they say the wolf was about to spring upon them when he came to their assistance. We ought to very grateful to Heaven for their preservation. I had no idea, after what Martin said about the wolves, that they were so dangerous." " Why, ma'am, it is I that am most to blame, and that's the fact," replied Martin. " When we killed the bullock, I threw the offal on the heap of snow close to the cow-lodge, meaning that the wolves and other animals might eat it at night, but it seems that this animal was hungry, and had not left his meal when the dog attacked him, and that made the beast so rily and savage." " Yes ; it was ihe fault of Martin and me," replied Alfred. " Thank Heaven it's no worse !" " So far from its being a subject of regret, I consider it one of thankfulness," replied Mr. Campbell. " This might have happened when there was no one to as- sist, and our dear girls might have been torn to pieces. Now that we know the danger, we may guard against it for the future." " Yes, sir," replied Martin ; " in future some of us will drive the cows home, to be milked every morn- ing and evening : inside the palisade there will be no danger. Master John, you have done well. You see, ma'am," continued Martin, " what I said has come irue. A rifle in the hands of a child is as deadly a weapon as in the hands of a strong man." "Yes ; if courage and presence of mind attend its THE SETTLERS. 139 use," replied Mr. Campbell. " John, I am very much pleased with your conduct." " Mother called me naughty," replied John, rather sulkily. " Yes, John, I called you naughty, for not telling us the wolf was dead, and leaving us to suppose that your cousins were in danger ; not for killing the wolf. Now I kiss you, and thank you for your bravery and good conduct." " I shall tell all the officers at the fort what a gal- lant little fellow you are, John," said Captain Sin- clair ; " there are very few of them who have shot a woif, and what is more, John, I have a beautiful dog, which one of the officers gave me the other day in exchange for a pony, and I will bring it over, and make it a present to you for your own dog. He will hunt anything, and he is very powerful — quite able to master a wolf, if you meet with one. He is half mastiff and half Scotch deerhound, and he stands as high as this," continued Captain Sinclair, holding his hand about as high as John's shoulder. " I'll go to the fort with you," said John, " and bring him back." "So you shall, John, and I'll go with you," said Martin, "if master pleases." " Well," replied Mr. Campbell, " I think he may ; what with Martin, his own rifle, and the dog, John will, I trust, be safe enough." " Certainly, I have no objection," said Mrs. Camp- bell, " and many thanks to you, Captain Sinclair." " What's the dog's name ?" said John. "Oscar," replied Captain Sinclair. " If you let him walk out with your cousins, they need not fear a wolf. He will never be mastered by one as poor Sancho was." "I'll lend him sometimes," replied John. "Always; when you don't want him yourself, John." " Yes, always," replied John, who was going out of the door. 140 THE SETTLERS. "Where are you going, dear?" said Mrs. Camp- bell. " Going to skin the wolf," replied John, walking away. " Well, he'll be a regular keen hunter," observed Martin. " I dare say old Bone 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 John. " Martin ought to have known better than to leave the offal where he did," observed Captain Sinclair. "We must not be too hard, Captain Sinclair," said Alfred. " Martin has a contempt for wolves, and that wolf would not have stood his ground had it been a man instead of two young women who were in face of him. Wolves are very cunuing, 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 offal to tempt him. It was the offal, the animal's extreme hunger, and the attack of the dog — a combination of circumstances— which produced the event. I do not see that Martin can be blamed, as one can not 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 hol- low of some tree or under some root, where he has made a den. It will not come out till the spring. The catamount or panther is a much more danger- ous animal than the wolf; but it is scarce. I do think, however, that the young ladies should not venture out unless with some rifles in company, for fear of another mischance. We have plenty of lynxes here; hut. I doubt if they would attack even a child, although they fight when assailed, and bite and claw severely"." The Misses Percival now made their appearance. THE SETTLERS. 141 tmraa wbs very merry, but Mary rather grave. Captain Sinclair, having shaken hands with them both, said— " Why, Emma, you appear to have recovered sooner than your sister !" " Yes," replied Emma ; " but I was much more frightened than she was, and she supported me, or I should have fallen at the wolfs feet. I yielded to my fears ; Mary held up against hers ; so, as her exertions were much greater than mine, she has not recovered from them so soon. The fact is, Mary is brave when there is danger, and I am only brave when there is none." * " I was quite as much frightened as you, my dear Emma," said Mary Percival ; " but we must now help our aunt, and get dinner ready on the table." "I can not say that I have a wolfish appetite this morning," replied Emma, laughing ; " but Alfred will eat for me and himself too." In a few minutes dinner was on the table, and they all sat down without waiting for Martin and John, who were still busy skinning the wolf. 142 THE SETTLERS. CHAPTER XVIII. " Here come Martin and John at last," said Mr. Campbell, after they had been about a quarter of an hour at table. But he was mistaken ; instead of Martin and John, Malachi Bone made his appearance, and, to their surprise, accompanied by his young squaw, the Strawberry Plant. Every one rose to welcome them, and the Misses Percival went to their little female acquaintance, and would have made her sit down with them, but she refused, and took her seat on the floor near the fire. "She an't used to chairs and stools, miss; let her be where she is," said old Bone, " she'll be more comfortable, and that's what you want her to be, I'm sure. I brought her with me, because I could not carry all the venison myself, and also to show her the way in and out of the house, and how it is fas- tened, in case of sending a message by night." " Of sending a message by night," said Mrs. Campbell, with surprise ; " why, what possible occa- sion could there be for that ?" Captain Sinclair and Alfred, who perceived that the old hunter had said too much, were quite at a loss what to say. They did not like to frighten Mrs. Campbell and the girls about the Indians, especially as they had just been so much alarmed with the accident of the morning. At last Alfred replied, " The fact is, my dear mother, that ' forewarned is being forearmed,' as the saying is ; and I told Martin to request Malachi Bone, if he should hear of any Indians being about or near us, to let us know imme* diately." THE SETTLERS. 143 " Yes, ma'am, that is the whole story," continued Malachi. " It's the best plan, when you're in the woods always to have your rifle loaded." Mrs. Campbell and the girls were evidently not a tittle fluttered at this fresh intimation of danger. Captain Sinclair perceived it, and said, " We have always spies on the lookout at the fort, that we may know where the Indians are and what they are about. Last month, we know that they held a coun- cil, but that it broke up without their coming to any determination, and that no hostile feeling was ex- pressed so far as we could ascertain. But we never trust the Indians, and they, knowing that we watch them, have been verv careful not to commit any out- rages; they have not done so for a long while, nor do I think they will venture again. At the same time, we like to know where they are, and I requested Alfred to speak to Malachi Bone, to send us imme- diate word if he heard or saw anything of them : not, however, that I intended that the ladies should be wakened up in the middle of the night," continued Captain Sinclair, laughing; "that was not at all necessary." Malachi Bone would have responded, 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." " No, no," replied Mr. Campbell, "I'm glad that she is come, and hope she will come very often. Now, Malachi, sit down and eat something." *' Well, but about the Indians, Captain Sinclair,—" said Mrs. Campbell ; " that you have not told us all I am certain, and the conviction that such is the case, will make me and the girls very uneasy; so pray do treat us as we ought to be treated ; we share the danger, and we ought to know what the danger is." 144 THE SETTLERS. " I do not think that there is any clanger, Mrs. Campbell," replied Captain Sinclair, " unless Malachi has further information to give us. I do, however, perfectly agree with you, that you ought to know all that we know, and am quite ready to enter upon the subject, trifling as it is." " So I presume it must be, my dear," observed Mr. Campbell, " for I have as yet known nothing about the matter. So pray, Captain Sinclair, instruct us all." Captain Sinclair then stated what he had before mentioned to Alfred, and having so done, pointed out that mere was no occasion for alarm, he requested Malachi Bone would say if he had any further infor- mation. " The Inguns did meet as you say, and they could not agree, so they broke up, and are now all out upon their hunting and trapping for furs. But there's one thing 1 don't exactly feel comfortable about, which is that the 'Angry Snake,' as he is called, who was at the ' talk,' and was. mighty venomous against the English, has squatted for the winter somewhere here about." " The Angry Snake," said Captain Sinclair. "Is that the chief who served with the French, and wears a medal ?" " The very same, sir. He's not a chief though ; he was a very good warrior in his day, and the French were very partial to him, as he served them well ; but he is no chief, although he was considered as a sort of one from the consequence he obtained with the French. He is an old man now, and a very bitter one. Many's the Englishman that he has tied to the stake, and tortured during the war. He hates us, and is always stirring up the Indians to make war with us ; but his day has gone by, and they do not heed him at the council now." " Then, why are you uncomfortable about him?" said Mr. Campbell. " Because he has taken up his quarters for the winter hunting not far from us, with six or seven of THE SETTLERS. 145 the young warriors, who look up to him, and he is mischievous. If the Ingun nation won't make war he will do something on his own account, if he pos- sibly can. He's not badly named, I can tell vou " " Will he attack you?" ' " Me ! no, no ; he knows better. He knows my rifle well ; he has the mark on his body ; not but that he would if he dared, but I am Ingun myself, and know Ingun craft. Then you see, these people have strange ideas. During the whole war thev never could even hit me with their rifles, and they think I am not to be hurt— that's their superstition —and my rifle, they think, never misses (they're almost right there, for it does not once in a hundred times), so what with this and that, they fear me as a supernatural, as we call it. But that's not the case with you all here ; and if the Snake could creep within these palisades, he might be mischievous." " But the tribes know very well that any attack of this kind would be considered as a declaration of hostilities," said Captain Sinclair, "and that we should retaliate." " Yes ; but you see the Snake don't belong to these tribes about us ; his nation is much farther off, too far to go for redress ; and the tribes here, although they allow him to join the ' talk ' as an old warrior who had served against the English, and from re- spect to his age, do not acknowledge him or his doings. They would disavow them immediately and with truth, but they can not prevent his rtoin°- mis- chief." " What, then, is the redress in case oi hi* doing any mischief?" said Henry. " Why, upon him and his band, whenever you can find them. You may destroy them all, and the Inguns here won't say a word, or make any com- plaint. That's all that can be done ; and that's what I will do ; I mean to tell him so, when I mee' him. He fears me, and so do his men ; they think me medicine." Vol. L— 13 i46 THE SETTLERS. " Medicine ! Whal is that ?" said Henry. "It means that he has a charmed life," replied Captain Sinclair. The Indians are very supersti- tious." " Yes, they be ; well, perhaps, I'll prove medi- cine ; and I'll give them a pill or two out of my rifle," said Malachi, with a grim smile. " Howsom- ever, I'll soon learn more about them, and will let you know when I do. Just keep your palisade gates fast at night and the dogs inside of them, and at any time I'll give you warning. If I am on their trail the Strawberry shall come, and that's why I brought her here. If you hear three knocks outside the palis- ade at any hour of the night, why it will be her, so let her in." " Well," said Mrs. Campbell, " I'm very glad that you have told me all this ; now I know what we have to expect, I shall be more courageous and much more on my guard." " I think we have done wisely in letting you know all we knew ourselves," said Captain Sinclair. " I must soon take my leave, as I must be at the fort before sunset. Martin and John are to come with me, and bring back the dog." " Ain't the boy going with me?" said Malachi. " Yes ; to-morrow morning he may go, but aftei his return from the fort it will be too late." " Well, then, I may as well stay here," replied Malachi. " Where is he ?" " He is gone to skin a wolf, which he shot this morning," replied Alfred. "He will soon be here." Mrs. Campbell shortly related to Malachi the ad- venture of the wolf. The old hunter listened in silence, and then gave a nod of approbation. "I reckon he'll bring home more skins than tha this winter," said he. The pariy then rose just as Martin and John made their appearance. Captain Sinclair conversed with the Misses Percival, while the old hunter spoke to the Strawberry Plant in her own dialect; the others THE SETTLERS. 147 either went out or were busy in clearing the table, till Captain Sinclair took his departure with John and Martin, each armed with a rifle. " Well, this has been an exciting day," observed Mr. Campbell, a little before they reiired *o bed. " We have much to thank God for, and great reason to pray for his continued protection and assistance. God bless you all, my children ; good night." CHAPTER XIX. The next morning, a little after daybreak, Martin and John made their appearance, leading the mag- nificent dog which Captain Sinclair had given to John. Like most large dogs, Oscar appeared to be 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 could well manage I expect ; but, come here, boy," said the old hunter to John, leading the way outside of the door. " You'd better leave the dog, John," said Malachi, " the crittur will be of use here, but of no good to us." John made no reply, and the hunter continued — " I say it will be of use here, for the girls might meet with another wolf, or the house might be at- tacked ; but good hunters don't want dogs. Is it to watch for us, and give us notice of danger? Why that's our duly, and we must trust to ourselves, and not to an animal. Is it to hunt for us? Why no dog can take a deer so well as we can with our rifles ; a dog may discover us when we wish to be hidden ; a dog's track will mark us out when we would wish our track to be doubted. The animal »48 THE SETTLERS. will be of no utility ever to us, John, and may do us harm, 'specially now the snow's on the ground. In the summer time, you can take him and teach him how to behave as a hunter's dog should behave ; but we had better leave him now, and start at once." John nodded his head in assent, and then went in doors. " Good-by," said John, going up to his mother and cousins ; " I shall not take the dog." "Won't take the dog! well, that's very kind of you, John," said Mary, " for we were longing to have him to protect us." John shouldered his rifle, made a sign to Straw- berry Plant, who rose and looking kindly at Mrs. Campbell and the girls, without speaking, followed John out of the hut. Malachi certainly was not very polite for he walked off, in company with John and the squaw, without taking the trouble to say " good- by." It must, however, be observed that he was m conversation with Martin, who accompanied them on the way. The winter had now become very severe. The thermometer was twenty degrees below the freezing point, and the cold was so intense, that every pre- caution was taken against it. More than once Per- cival, whose business it was to bring in the fire- wood, was frost bitten, but as Mrs. Campbell was very watchful, the remedy of cold snow was always successfully applied. The howling of the wolves continued every night, but they were now used to it, and the only effect was, when one came more than usually close to the house, to make Oscar raise his head, growl, listen awhile, and then lie down to sleep again. Oscar became very fond of the girls, and was their invariable companion whenever they left the house. Alfred, Martin, and Henry, went out almost daily on hunting excursions ; indeed, as there were no crops in the barn, they had little else to do. Mr. Campbell remained at home with his wife and nieces; occasionally, but not very often, Perchal THE SETTLERS. 149 accompanied the 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 apparent, and he was so restless, that Mrs. Campbell rather wished him to be away, than remain at home so much against his will. Thus passed away the time till the year closed in ; confined as they were by the severity of the weather, and having little or nothing to do, the winter ap- peared longer and more tedious than it would have done if they had been settled longer, and had the crops to occupy their attention ; for it is in the win- ter that the Canadian farmer gets through all his thrashing and other work connected with his farm, preparatory for the coming spring. This being their first winter, they had, of course, no crops gathered in, and were, therefore, in want of employment. Mrs. Campbell and her nieces worked and read, and employed themselves in every way that they could, but constancy shut up within doors, they could not help feeling the monotony and ennui of their situa- tion. The young men found occupation and amuse- ment in the chase ; they brought in a variety of ani- mals and skins, and the evenings were generally devoted to a narration of what occurred in the day during their hunting excursions, but even these his- tories of the chase were at last heard with indiffer- ence. 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. <3* 150 THE SETTLERS. "Yes, well ; that old Malachi will never bring U3 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." " Why, my dear Mary, because I want some news ; I want something to excite me, I leel so dull. It's nothing but stitch, stitch, all day, and I am tired of always doing the same thing. What a ho r rid 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 we ought to feel grateful that we have a good house over our heads, and more security than we anticipated." " Almost too much security, Mary ; I begin to feel that I could welcome an Indian even in his war- paint, just by way of a little change." " I think you would soon repent of your wish, if it were gratified." "Very likely, but I can't 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 venison." " Indeed, Emma, you are wrong to feel such dis- content and weariness." "Perhaps I am, but I have not walked a hundred yards for nearly one hundred days, and that will give one the blues, as they call them, and I do noth- ing but yawn, yawn, yawn, for want of air and exer- cise. Uncle wont let us move out on account of that horrid wolf. I wonder how Captain Sinclair is get- ting on at the fort, and whether he is as dull as we are." To do Emma justice, it was seldom that she in- dulged herself in such lamentings, but the tedium was more than her high flow of spirits could well bear. Mrs. Campbell made a point of arranging the THE SETTLERS. 151 household, which gave her occupation, and Mary from natural disposition did not feel the confinement as much as Emma did ; whenever, therefore, she did show symptoms of restlessness or was tempted to utter a complaint, they reasoned with and soothed, but never reproached her. The day after this conversation, Emma, to amuse herself, took a rifle and went out with Percival. She fired several shots at a mark, and by degrees acquired some dexterity ; gradually she became fond of the exercise, and not a day passed that she and Percival did not practise for an hour or two, until at last Em- ma could fire with great precision. Practice and a knowledge of the perfect use of your weapon gives confidence, and this Emma did at last acquire. She challenged Alfred and Henry to fire at the bull's-eye with her, and whether by their gallantry or her su- perior dexterity, she was declared victor. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell smiled when Emma came in and nar- rated her success, and felt glad that she had found something which afforded her amusement. It happened that one evening the hunters were very late ; it was a clear moonlight night, but at eight o'clock, they had not made their appearance ; Percival had opened the door to go out for some fire- wood which had been piled within the palisades, and as it Avas later than the usual hour for locking the palisade gates, Mr. Campbell had directed him so to do. Emma, attracted by the beauty of the night, was at the door of the house, when the howl of a wolf was heard close to them ; the dogs, accustomed to it, merely sprang on their feet, but did not leave the kitchen fire ; Emma went out and looked through the palisades to see if she could perceive the animal, and little Trim, the terrier, followed her. Now Trim was so small, that he could creep between the palisades, and as soon as he was close to them, per- ceiving the wolf, the courageous little animal squeez- ed through them and flew toward it, barking as loud as he could. Emma immediately ran in, took down 152 THE SETTLERS. her rifle and went out again, as she knew ihat poor Trim would soon be devoured. The supposition was correct, the wolf instead of retreating closed with the little dog and seized it. Emma, who could now plainly perceive the animal, which was about forty yards from her, took aim and fired, just as poor Trim gave a loud yelp. Her aim was good, and the wolf and dog lay side by side. Mr. and Mrs. Camp- bell, and Mary, hearing the report of the rifle, ran out, and found Percival and Emma 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 Emma, that must not be ; youi cousins will be home soon, and then we sha-ll know how the case stands ; but the risk is too great." " Here they come," said Percival, " as fast as they can run." The hunters were soon at the palisade-door and admitted ; they had no game with them. Emma jeered them for coming back empty-handed. " No, no, my little cousin," replied Alfred, " we heard the report of a rifle, and we threw down our game, that we might sooner come to your assistance if you required it. What was the matter ?" " Only that I have killed a wolf, and am not al- lowed to bring in my trophy, "replied Emma : " come, Alfred, I may go with you and Martin." They went to the spot, and found the wolf was dead, and poor Trim dead also by his side. They took in the body of the little dog, and left the wolf till the morning, when Martin said he would skin it for Miss Emma. "And I'll make a footstool of it," said Emma; " that sliall be my revenge for the fright I had from the other wolf. Come, Oscar, good dog : you and I will go wolf-hunting. Dear me, who would have thought that I should have ever killed a wolf? — poor little Trim !" THE SETTLEKS. 153 Martin said it would be useless to return for the venison, as the wolves had no doubt eaten it already • so they locked the palisade-gate, and went into the house. Emma's adventure was the topic of the evening and Emma herself was much pleased at having ac- complished such a feat. "Well," said Martin, " I never knew but one wo- man who faced a wolf, except Miss Emma." ''And who. was that, Martin?" said Mrs. Camp- " It was a wife of one of our farmers, ma'am ; she was at the outhouse doing something, when she per- ceived a wolf enter the cottage-door, where there was nobody except the baby in the cradle. She ran back and found the wolf just lifting the infant out of the cradle by its clothes. The animal looked at her with his eyes flashing; but, having its mouth full, it did not choose to drop the baby, and spring at her ; all it wanted was to get clear off with its prey. The woman had presence of mind enough to take down her husband's rifle and point it at the wolf, but she was so fearful of hurting the child, that she did not put the muzzle to its head, but to its shoulder. She bred just as the wolf was making off, and the animal tell, and could not get on its feet again ; and it then dropped the child out of its mouth, to attack the mother. The woman caught the child up, but the lyolf gave her a severe bite on the arm, and broke the bone near the wrist. A wolf has a wonderful strong jaw, ma'am. However, the baby was saved, and neighbors came and despatched the animal." "What a fearful position for a mother to be in '" exclaimed Mrs. Campbell. "Where did that happen?" " On the White mountains, ma'am," replied Mar- "n. " Malachi Bone told me the story : he was born there." " Then he is an American." "Well, ma'am, he is an American because he 154 THE SETTLERS. was born in this country, but it was English when he was born, so he calls himself an Englishman." " I understand," replied Mrs Campbell ; " he was born before the colonies obtained their independence." " Yes, ma'am, long before ; there's no saying how old he is. When I was quite a child, I recollect he was then reckoned an old man ; indeed, tbe name the Indians gave to him proves it. He then was called the ' Gray Badger.'" " But is he so very old, do you really think, Mar- tin ?" " I think he has seen more than sixty snows, ma'am, but not many more ; the fact is, his hair was gray before 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 the Gray Badger was a great hunter, as Mala- chi was more than forty years ago ; so they imagine as his hair was gray then, he must have been a very old man at that time back, and so to them he ap- pears to live for ever, and they consider him as charmed, and, to use their phrase, ' great medicine.'' I've heard some Indians declare that Malachi has seen one hundred and fifty winters, and they really believe it. I never contradicted them, as you may imagine." " Does he live comfortably ?" " Yes, ma'am, he does ; his squaw knows what he wants, and does what she is bid. She is very fond of the old man, and looks upon him, as he re- ally 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 pow- der and ball, what else can he want ?" "Happy are they whose wants are so few," ob- served Mr. Campbell. "A man in whatever position in life, if he is content, is certain to be happy. How true are the words of the poet : — ' Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long !' THE SETTLERS. 155 Malachi Bone is a happier man than hundreds in England who live in luxury. Let us profit, my dear children, by his example, and learn to be content with what Heaven has bestowed upon us. But it is time to retire. The wind has risen, and we shall have a blustering night. Henry, fetch me the book." CHAPTER XX. Alfred and Martin brought in the wolf which Emma had killed, but it was frozen so hard, that they could not skin it. Poor little Trim was also carried in, but the ground was too hard frozen for them to bury the body, so they put it into the snow until the spring, when a thaw would take place. As for the wolf, they said nothing about it, but they re- mained up when the rest of the family retired, and after the wolf had been some time before the fire, they were able to take off the skin. On the following morning when the hunters went out, they were particularly desired to shoot a wild turkey if they could, as the next day was Christmas- day. " Let us take Oscar with us," said Alfred ; " he is very swift, and may run them down : we never can get up with them in our snow-shoes." "I wonder whether they will get a turkey," said Emma, afier the hunting-party had left. " I think it will be difficult," said Mrs. Campbell ; "but they will try all they can." "I hope they will ; for Christmas-day without a turkey will be very un-English." " We are not in England, my dear Emma," said Mr. Campbell ; " and wild turkeys are not to be or- dered from the poulterers." " I know that we are not in England, my dear un- cle, and I feel it too. How was the day before every 156 THE SETTLERS. Christmas-day spent at Wexton Hall ! What piles of warm blankets, what a quantity of duffil cloaks, flannels, and worsted stockings, were we all so husy and so happy in preparing and sorting to give away on the following morning, that all within miles of us should be warmly clothed on that day ! And, then, the housekeeper's room with all the joints of meat, and flour, and plums, and suet, in proporiion 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 school-girls, and the church so gay, with their new dresses in the aisles, and the holly and the misletoe. I know we are not in Kng- land, my dear uncle, and that you have lost one of your greatest pleasures — that of doing good, and ma- king all happy 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 so, and we ought to be thankful that, if not dis- pensing charity, at all events, we are not the objects of charity to others; that we are independent, and earning an honest livelihood. People may be very happy, and feel the most devout gratitude, on the an- niversary of so great a mercy, without having a turkey for dinner." " I 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 Christ- mas times at Wexton Hal! ; but, indeed, my dear uncle, if there was regret, it was not for myself so much as for you," replied Emma, with tears in her eyes. il Perhaps I spoke rather loo severely, my dearest Emma," said Mr. Campbell ; " but I did not like to hear such a solemn day spoken of as if it were com- memorated merely by the eating of certain food." " It was foolish of me," replied Emma, " and it was said thoughtlessly." Emma went up to Mr. Campbell and kissed him, THE SETTLERS. 157 and Mr. Campbell said, "Well, I hope there will be a turkey, since you wish for one." The hunters did not return till late, and when they appeared in sight, Percival, who had descried them, came in and said that they were very well loaded, and Avere bringing in their game slung upon a pole! Mary and Emma went out of the door to meet their cousins. That there was a heavy load carried on a pole between Martin and Alfred was certain, but they could not distinguish what it consisted of. As the party arrived at the palisade gates, however, they discovered that it was not game, but a human being, who was carried on a sort of litter made of boughs. " What is it, Alfred ?" said Mary. " Wait, till I recover mv breath," said Alfred, as he reached the door, "or ask Henry, for I'm quite knocked up." Henry then went with his cousins into the house, and explained to them that as they were in pursuit of the wild turkeys, Oscar had stopped suddenly and commenced baying; that they went up to the dog, and, in a bush, they found a poor Indian woman nearly frozen to death, and with a dislocation of the ankle, so severe that her leg 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 party of Indians who had been some days out hunting, and a long way from where they had built their winter lodges ; that she had fallen with the weight which she had to carry and that her leg was so bad, she could not go on with them ; that they had taken her burden, and left her to follow them when she could. "Yes," continued Alfred ; " left the poor creature without food, to perish in the snow. One day more, and it would have been all over with her. It is wonderful how she can have lived through the two last nights as she has. But Martin says the Indiana Vol. I. — 14 158 THE SETTLERS. always do leave a woman to perish in this way or recover as she can, if she happens to meet with an accident." "At all events, let us bring her in at once," said Mr. Campbell. " I will first see if my surgical as- sistance 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 I have relieved each other, except once, when I took Alfred's place." " And so you perceive, Emma, instead of a wild turkey, I have brought an Indian squaw," said Al- fred. " I love you better for your kindness, Alfred, re- plied Emma, " than if you had brought me a wagon- load of turkeys." In the meantime Martin and Henry brought 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 an exposure to heat would have been almost equally fatal. Mr. Camp- bell 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 applica- tion. Mrs. Campbell and the two girls chafed the poor creature's limbs till the circulation was a little restored, and then they gave her something warm to drink. It was proposed by Mrs. Campbell that they should make up a bed for her on the floor of the kitchen. This was done in a corner near to the fire- place, and in about an hour their patient fell into a sound sleep. " It is lucky for her that she did not fall into that sleep before we found her," said Martin; "she would never have awoke again." " .Most certainly not," replied Mr. Campbell, "Have you any idea what tribe she is of, Martin ?" " Yes, sir ; she is one of the Chippeways ; there THE SETTLERS. 159 are many divisions of them, but I will find out when she wakes again to which she belongs ; she was too much exhausted when we found her, to say much." "It appears very inhuman leaving her to perish in that way," observed Mrs. Campbell. " Well, ma'am, so it does ; but necessity has no law. The Indians could not, if they would, have carried her, perhaps, one hundred miles. It would have, probably, been the occasion of more deaths, for the cold is too great now for sleeping out at nightsfor any time, although they do contrive with the help of a large fire to stay out sometimes." " Self-preservation is the first law of nature, cer- tainly," observed Mr. Campbell ; "but, if I recollect right, the savages do not value the life of a woman very highly." " That's a fact, sir," replied Martin ; " not much more, I reckon, than you would a beast of burden." " It is always the case among savage nations," observed Mr. Campbell ; " the first mark of civili- zation is the treatment of the other sex, and in pro- portion as civilization increases, so are the women protected and well used. But your supper is ready, my children, and I think after your fatigue and fast- ing you must require it." "I am almost too tired to eat," observed Alfred. " I shall infinitely more enjoy a good sleep under my bear-skins. At the same time I'll try what I can do," continued he, laughing, and taking his seat at table. Notwithstanding Alfred's observation, he con- trived to make a very hearty supper, and Emma laughed at his appetite after his professing that he had so little inclination to eat. «' I said I was too tired to eat, Emma, and so I felt at the time ; but as I became more refreshed my appetite returned," replied Alfred, laughing, "and notwithstanding your jeering me, I mean to eat some more." 160 THE SETTLERS. " How long has John been away ?" said Mr. Campbell. " Now nearly a fortnight," observed Mrs. Camp- bell ; " he promised to come here on Christmas-day. I suppose we shall see him to-morrow morning." " Yes, ma'am : and old Bone will come with him, I dare say. He said as much to me when he was going away the last time. He observed that the boy could not bring the venison, and perhaps he would if he had any, for he knows that people like plenty of meat on Christmas-day." "I wonder whether old Malachi is any way re- ligious," observed Mary. " Do you think he is, Martin ?" "Yes, ma'am ; I think 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, all alone in the woods, I feel more religious than I do when at Que- bec on my return, although I do go to church. Now old Malachi has, I think, a solemn reverence for the Divine P>ein£, and strict notions of duty, so far as he understands it — but as he never goes to any town or mixes with any company, so the rites of religion, as I may call them, and the observances of the holy feasts, are lost to him, except as a sort of dream of former days, before he took to his hunter's life. In- deed, 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 can not tell which is Sunday, for he is not able to keep a reckoning. Now, ma'am, when you desired Master John to be at home on the Friday fortnight because it was Christmas-day, I perceived old Malachi in deep thought: he was recalling to mind what Christmas-day was; if you had not mentioned it, the day would have passed away like any other ; but you reminded him, and then it wa9 that he said he would come if he could. I'm sure THE SETTLERS 161 that now he knows it is Christmas-day, he intends to keep it as such." "There is much truth in what Martin says," ob- served Mr. Campbell ; " we require the seventh day in the week and other stated seasons of devotion to be regularly set apart, in order to keep us in mind of our duties and preserve the life of religion. In the woods, remote from communion with other Christians, these things are easily forgotten, and when once we have lost our calculation, it is not to be recovered. But come, Alfred, and Henry, and Martin must be very tired, and we had better all go to bed. 1 will sit up a little while to give some drink to my patient, if she wishes it. Good night, my children." CHAPTER XXI. Christmas-day was indeed a change, as Emma had observed, from their former Christmas; but al- though the frost was more than usually severe, and the snow filled the air with its white flakes, and the northeast wind howled through the leafless trees as they rasped their long arms against each other, and the lake was one sheet of thick ice, with a covering of snow which the wind had in different places blown up iuto hillocks, still they had a good roof over their heads, and a warm, blazing fire on the hearth : and they had no domestic miseries, the worst miseries of all to contend against, for they were a united family, loving and beloved; showing mutual acts of kindness and mutual acts of forbear- ance ; proving how much better was "a dish of herbs where love is, than the stalled ox with hatred therewith." Moreover, they were all piously dis- posed ; they were sensible that they owed a large debt of gratitude to Heaven for all its daily mercies in providing them with food and raiment, for ward- 14* 162 THE SETTLERS. mg off from them sickness and sorrow, and giving them humble and contented hearts ; and on this day, they felt how little were all worldly considerations, compared with the hopes which were held out to them through the great sacrifice which the goodness and mercy of God had made for them and all the world. It was therefore with cheerful yet subdued looks that they greeted each other when they met previous to the morning prayers. Mr. Campbell had already visited his patient and readjusted the bandage : her ankle was better, but still very much swelled ; the poor creature made no complaints, she looked grateful for what was done and for the kindness shown to her. They were all arrayed in their best Sunday dresses, and as soon as prayers were over, had just wished each other the congratulations so general, so appropriate, and yet too often so thoughtlessly given upon the anniversa- ry, when Malachi Bone, his little squaw the Straw- berry, and John, entered the door of the hut, laden with the sports of the forest, which they laid down in the corner of the kitchen, and then saluted the party. " Here we are all together on Christmas-day," said Emma, who had taken the hand of the Straw- berry. The Indian girl smiled, and nodded her head. "And, John, you have brought us three wild tur- keys ; you are a good boy, John," continued Emma. " If we only had Captain Sinclair here now," said Martin to Emma and Mary Percival, who was by Emma's side, shaking hands with the Strawberry. Mary colored up a little, and Emma replied, " Yes, Martin, we do want him, for I always feel as if he belonged to the family." " Well, it's not his fault that he's not here," re- plied Martin ; '• it's now more than six weeks since !:<: has left, and if the colonel would allow him, I'm sure that Captain Sinclair " " Would be here on this day," said Captain Sin- THE SETTLERS. 163 clair, who with Mr. Gwynne, his former companion, had entered the door of the house without being observed ; for the rest of the party were in conver- sation with Malachi Bone and John. " Oh, how glad I am to see you," cried Emma ; " we only wanted you to make our Christmas party complete ; and I'm very glad to see you too, Mr. Gwynne," continued Emma, as she held out a hand to each. " We had some difficulty in persuading the colonel to let us come," observed Captain Sinclair to Mary ; "but as we have heard nothing further about the Indians, he consented." " You have nothing more to fear from the Indians this winter, captain, and you may tell the colonel so from me," said Malachi. "I happened to be on their hunting ground yesterday, and they have broken up and gone westward, that is, Angry Snake and his party have ; I followed their track over the snow for a few miles just to make sure ; they have taken every- thing with them, but somehow or other, I could not find out that the squaw was with them — and they had one in their party. They carried their own packs of fur, that I'll swear to, and they had been thrown down several times ; which would not have been the case, if they had not been carried by men ; for you see, the Ingun is very impatient under a load, which a squaw will carry the whole day without complaining. Now that party is gone, there is no other about here within fifty miles, I'll be bound for." "I'm very glad to hear you say so," replied Cap- tain Sinclair. " Then, perhaps, this poor woman whom you suc- cored, Alfred, is the squaw belonging to the party," observed Mr. Campbell. Mr. Campbell then related to Malachi Bone what had occurred on the day before ; how the hunting party had brought home tiic woman, whom he pointed to in the corner, where she had remained unnoticed by the visiters. Malachi and the Strawberry went up to her ; the 164 THE SETTLERS. Strawberry spoke to her in the Indian tongue in a low voice, and the woman replied in the same, while Malachi stood over them and listened. "It's just as you thought, sir ; she belongs to the Angry Snake, and she says that he has gone with his parly to the westward, as the beaver were very scarce down here ; I could have told him that. She confirms my statement, that all the Indians are gone, but are to meet at the same place in the spring, to hold a council." " Is she of the same tribe as the Strawberry ?" in- quired Henry. " That's as may be," replied Malachi ; "I hardly know which tribe the Strawberry belongs to." " But they speak the same language." " Yes ; but the Strawberry learnt the tongue from me," replied Malachi. " From you," said Mrs. Campbell ; how was that ?" " Why, ma'am, it's about thirteen or fourteen years back, that I happened to come in upon a skir- mish which took place on one of the small lakes between one of the tribes here and a war party of Hurons who were out. They were surprised by the Hurons, and every soul, as far as I could learn, was either scalped or carried away prisoner. The Hurons had gone about an hour or two, when I came up to the place where they fought, and I sat down looking at the dead bodies, and thinking to myself what creatures men were to deface God's image in that way, when I saw under a bush two little sharp eyes looking at me ; at first, I thought it was some beast, a lynx, mayhap, as they now call them, and 1 pointed my rifle toward it ; but before I pulled the trigger, I thought that perhaps I might be mistaken, so I walked up to the bush, and there I discovered that it was an Indian child, which had escap'.l the mas- sacre by hiding itself in the bush. I pulled it out ; it was a girl about two years old, who could speak but a few words. I took her home to my lodge, and have had her with me ever since, sol don't exactly THE SETTLERS. 165 know what tribe she belongs to, as they all speak the same tongue. I callsd her " the Strawberry," because I found her under a bush close to the ground, and among strawberry plants which were growing there." " And then you married her," said Percival. "Married her! no, boy, I never married her; what has an old man of near seventy to do with marrying. They call her my squaw, because they suppose "she is my wife, and she does the duty of a wife to me ; but if they were to call her my daugh- ter, 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 are not far wrong," replied the old man. " I do wish I could find out her tribe, but I never have been able, and indeed, from what I can learn, the party who were surprised came a long way from this, although speaking the same language ; and I don't think there is any chance now, for even if I were to tvy to discover it, there have been so many surprises and so much slaughter within these last twenty years, that it's scarcely possible the search would be attended with success." " But why do you wish to find out her tribe ?" said Mary. " Because I'm an old man, miss, and must soon expect to be gathered to my fathers, and then this poor little girl will be quite alone, unless I can marry her to some one before I die ; and if I do marry her, why then she will leave me alone ; but that can't be helped, I'm an old man, and what does it matter." " It matters a great deal, Malachi," said Mr. Campbell ; " I wish you would live with us ; you would then be taken care of if you required it, and not die alone in the wilderness." " And the Strawberry shall never want friends or a home, while we can offer her one, Malachi," said Mrs. Campbell ; " let what will happen to you, she 166 THE SETTLERS. will be welcome to live here and die here, if she will remain." Malachi made no reply ; he was in deep thought, resting his chin upon his hands which held his rifle before him. Mrs. Campbell and the girls were obliged to leave to prepare the dinner. John had sat down with the Strawberry and the Indian woman, and was listening to them, for he now understood the Chippeway tongue. Alfred, Sinclair, and the other gentlemen of the party, were in conversation near the Are, when they were requested by Mrs. Campbell to retreat to the sitting-room, that the cul- inary operations might not be interfered with. Mal- achi Bone still continued sitting where he was, in deep thought. Martin, who remained, said to the Miss Percivals in a low voice — " Well, I really did think that the old man had married the girl, and I thought it was a pity," con- tinued he, looking toward the Strawberry, " for she is very young and very handsome for a squaw." " I think," replied Mary Percival, "she would be considered handsome everywhere, Martin, squaw or not ; her features are very pretty, and then she has a melancholy smile, which is perfectly beautiful ; but now, Martin, pluck these turkeys, or wc shall not have them ready in time." As soon as the dinner was at the fire, and could be left to the care of Martin, Mrs. Campbell and the Misses Percival went into the sitting room. Mr. Campbell then read the morning service of the day, Henry officiating as clerk in the responses. Old Malachi had joined the party, and was profoundly at- tentive. As soon as the service was over, he said — "All this puts me in mind of days long past, days which appear to me as a dream, when I was a lad and had a father and a mother, and brothers and sisters around me ; but many summers and many winters have passed over my head since then." " You were born in Maine, Malachi, were you not ?" THE SETTLERS. 107 " 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 kepi in our family ; how my mother cleaned us all, and put on our best clothes, and how we went to the chapel or church, I forget wAich they called it ; but no matter, we went to pray." " Was your father of the established church, Mai- achi?" " I can't tell, ma'arn ; 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 population is crowded, you find people divided into sects, and, what is still worse, despising, if not haling each other, because the outward forms of worship are a little different. Here in our isolated position, we feel how trifling are many of the distinctions which divide religious communities, and that we could gladly give the right hand of fellowship to any de- nomination of Christians who hold the main truths of the gospel. Are not all such agreed in things essential, animated with the same hopes, acknowl- edging the same rule of faith, and all comprehended in the same divine mercy which was shown us on this day ? What do all sincere Christians believe but that God is holy, great, good, and merciful, that his Son died for us all, and that through his merits and intercession, if we conform to his precepts — whether members of the church of England, or any other communion— we shall be saved and obtain the blessedness of heaven ? We may prefer, and reason- ably prefer, our own mode of worship, believing it to be most edifying ; but we have no right to quarrel with those who conscientiously 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 fnow think 168 THE SETTLERS. that those were pleasant days which then I thought irksome. My father had a large farm and would have had us all remain with him. In the winter we felled timber, and I took quite a passion for a hunt- er'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 twen- ty years old, and I have never seen my family since. I have been a hunter and a trapper, a guide and a soldier, and an interpreter; but for these last twenty-five years I have been away from towns and cities, and have lived altogether in the woods. The more man lives by himself, the more he likes it, and yet now and then circumstances bring up the days of his youth, and make him hesitate whether it be best or not to live alone." "I am glad to hear you say that, Malachi," said Mr. Campbell. " I little thought that I should ever have said it," replied the old man, " when I first saw that girl by the side of the stream (looking at Emma) — then my heart yearned toward the boy ; and now this meet- ing to praise God and to keep Christmas day — all has helped." " But do you not pray when you are alone ?" said Mary. "Yes, in a manner, miss; but it's not like your prayers; the lips don't move, although the heart feels. When I lie under a tree watching for the animals, and I take up a leaf and examine it, how curious and wonderful it is — I then think that God made it, and that man could not. When I see the young grass springing up, and how, I know not, except that it does so every year, I think of God and his mercy to the wild animals in giving them food ; and then the sun reminds me of God ; and the moon, and the stars, as I watch, make me think of him ; but I feel very ofien that there is something wanting, and that I do not worship exactly as I ought to do. I never have known which is Sunday, although I THE SETTLERS. 169 well recollected how holy it was kept at my father's house ; and I never should have known that this was Christmas day, had it not been that I had met with you. All days are alike to a man that is alone and in the wilderness, and that should not be — I feel that it should not." "So true is it," observed Mr. Campbell, "that stated times and seasons are necessary for the due observance of our religious duties ; and I am glad to hear Malachi say this, as I trust it will occasion his beinor with us more than he has been." " Come to us every Sunday, Malachi," said Mrs. Campbell. "I think I will, ma'am, if I can— indeed, why I say if I can, I know not ; it was wrong to say so." " I wish you to come not only on your own account, but for John's sake ; suppose you agree to come every Sunday morning, and leave us every Monday ? You will then have the whole week for your hunt- ing." " Please God, I will," replied Malachi. "And bring the Strawberry with you," said Mary. " I will, miss ; it can not but do her good." Dinner was now announced, and they all sat down ; a happy party. Mr. Campbell on this occasion pro- duced two or three bottles of his small store of wine, which he kept rather in case of illness than for any other reason, for they had all been so long without wine or spirits, that "they cared little about it. Their dinner consisted of white fish (salted), roast venison, boiled salt beef, roast turkey, and a plum-pudding, and they were all very merry, although they were in the woods of Canada, and not at Wexton Hall. "My children," said Mr. Campbell, after dinner, "I now drink all your healths, and wish you as much happiness as the world affords, and at the same time accept my most hearty thanks and my dearest love. You have all been good, obedient, and cheerful, and have lightened many a heavy load. Tf when it pleased Providence to send us into this wilderness, it Vol. I.— 15 170 THE SETTLERS. had been part of my lot to contend with "wilful and disobedient children; if there had been murmuring and repining at our trials; discontent and quarreling among yourselves, how much more painful would have been our situation. On the contrary, by your good humor and attention, your willing submission to privations, and your affectionate conduct toward me, my wife, and each other, you have not allowed us to feel the change of position to Avhich we have been reduced. I say again, my dear children all, you have my thanks, and may the Almighty blesa and preserve you !" ssr» o; roa» h THE SETTLERS IN CANADA. WRITTEN FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. FV CAPTAIN MARRY AT. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. NEW-YORK: D.APPLETOS & CO., 346 & :J48 BROADWAY tS.DOCO.LVL THE SETTLERS. CHAPTER I. Whkn we left off our narrative, our Canadian set* tiers were enjoying themselves on Christmas-day. On the following morning, Malachi Bone, the Straw- berry, and Jc Jin, set off for their abode to the west- ward, and Captain Sinclair and his companion went back to the fort. The Indian woman was better, and the family resumed their usual occupations. We must now briefly narrate a few events which occurred during the remainder of the long winter. Malachi and John made their appearance accompa- nied by the Strawberry almost every Sunday, and the old hunter appeared gradually to become more reconciled to the society of others, and sometimes would remain for a day or two over the Sunday. The Indian woman in the course of three weeks was quite recovered, and signified, through the Strawberry, her wish to leave, and join her tribe. To this, of course, no objection was raised; and hav- ing received a supply of provisions, she took her leave at (lie latter end of the montli of January. February, March, followed, and the winter still continued, but the sun became more powerful, and the weather was not so severe. It was not till the 1* 6 THE SETTLERS. middle of April that the lake was clear of ice and the thaw commenced, and then it was so rapid, that the little stream became quite an impetuous torrent, and a large portion of the prairie land was under water. A few days, however, sufficed to change the scene ; the snow which had covered the ground for so many months had all disappeared ; the birds which had been mute or had migrated during the winter, now made their appearance, and chirped and twittered round the house ; the pleasant green of the prairie was once more presented to their view, and Nature began to smile again. Other ten days passed, and the trees had thrown out their leaves, and after one or two storms, the weather became warm and the sky serene. Great was the delight of the whole party at this change ; and now the cows were put out to their pasture, and Emma and Mary went milking as be- fore, no longer afraid of meeting with the wolves. The boat was launched, and Percival and John went out to procure fish. Alfred, Henry, and Martin, were very busy picking up the cleared ground, to sow the first crop. Mr. Campbell worked all day in the garden ; the poultry were noisy and bustling, and soon furnished an abundant supply of eggs ; and as now the hunting season was over for a time, Mala- chi and the Strawberry were continually coming to visit them, " Oh ! how delightful this is," exclaimed Emma as she stopped at the bridge and looked on the wide blue lake ; " is it not, Mary, after having been cooped u j) for so many dreary months ?" " It is, indeed, Emma ; 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's very odd that Captain Sinclair has not come to see us ; don't you, Mary ?" " I certainly did expect him before this," replied THE SETTLERS. 7 Mary ; " I presume, however, his duty will not pir- mit him to come." " Surely he could get leave now that the weather vs fine : there was some reason for his not coming s Percivals, and, accompanied by the gentlemen of the party, walked down to the beach. " I can't bear parting with any one that I have been so intimate with, "said Emma, after they were left alone. " I declare I could sit down and have a hearty cry at Captain Sinclair's departure." Mary sighed, but made no answer. " I am not surprised to hear you say so, Emma," said Mrs. Campbell. " In England, when we were surrounded with friends, parting was always pain- ful ; but here where we have so few, I might almost say only Captain Sinclair, it is of course most pain- ful. However, it's only for a time, I hope." " It must be very dull to be on duty at the fort," said Mary ; " I should not be surprised at Captain Sinclair's not returning." "I should be most exceedingly surprised," replied Emma ; " I am sure that he will come back, if he is not unavoidably prevented." " Since he has expressed so much desire to rejoin his regiment, I should be surprised as well as you, Emma," said Mrs. Campbell. " He is not a volatile young man ; but come, we must clear away the din- ner-table." Mr. Campbell, Alfred, Percival, and Martin, soon returned, for Captain Sinclair was obliged to push off immediately, that he might return in time to the fort, in obedience to his orders. Malachi and John had gone out on a hunting expedition, and the Straw- berry was at her own lodge. The party that sat in the kitchen in the evening was, therefore, much re- THE SETTLERS. 25 duced, and the taking farewell of Captain Sinclair did not dispose them to he very lively. A few words were exchanged now and then, but the conversation drooped. Emma spoke of Captain Sinclair's expect- ations and projects. " We never know what may come in this world of change, my dear Emma," said Mr. Campbell. " All Captain Sinclair's plans may be overthrown by circumstances over which he has no control. How seldom do we meet with results equal to our expectations. When I was practising in my pro- fession, I little expected that I should be summoned to take possesson of Wexton Hall ; when once in possession, as little did I expect that I should be obliged to quit it, and to come to these desolate wilds. We are in the hands of God, who does with us as he thinks fit. I have been reading this morning, and I made the observation not only how often indi- viduals, but even nations, are out in their expecta- tions. I do not know a more convincing proof of this than the narration of events, which from their recent occurrence, can hardly yet be considered as history, has offered to me. Perhaps there never was so short a period in which causes have produced effects so rapidly, and in which, in every case, the effects have been directly opposite to what short- sighted mortals had anticipated. It was in 1756, scarcely forty years ago, that the French, being in possession of the provinces, attempted to wrest from us those portions of America which we occupied. What was the result? After a war which, for cruelty and atrocity, is perhaps unequalled in his- tory, both parties employing savages, by whom the French and English were alternately tortured and burnt to death, France, in attempting to obtain all, lost all, and was compelled, in 1760, to surrender its own provinces to Great Britain. Here is one in- stance in which affairs turned out contrary to the expectations of France. , "Now again: At no period was England more Vol. II.— 3 2b THE SETTLERS. prosperous or more respected by foreign nations thaa at the close of the war. Her prosperity made her arrogant and unjust. She wronged her colonies. She thought that they dared not resist her imperious will. She imagined that now that the French were driven from the Canadas, America was all her own ; whereas it was because the French were driven from the Canadas that the colonies ventured to resist. As tong as the French held this country, the English colonists had an enemy on their frontiers, and con- sequently looked up to England for support and pro- tection. They required aid and assistance, and as long as they did require it, they were not likely to make any remonstrance at being taxed to pay a por- tion of the expense which was incurred. Had the French possessed an army under Montcalm ready to advance at the time that the stamp act, or the duty upon tea, salt, &c, was imposed, I question very much if the colonists would have made any remon- strance. But no longer requiring an army for their own particular defence, these same duties induced them to rise in rebellion against what they consid- ered injustice, and eventually to assert their indepen- dence. Here, again, we find that affairs turned out quite contrary to the expectations of England. "Observe again. The American colonists gained their independence, which in all probability they would not have done had they not been assisted by the numerous army and fleet of France, who, irri- tated at the loss of the Canadas, wished to humiliate England by the loss of her own American posses- sions. But little did the French king and his no- blesse imagine, that in upholding the principles of the Americans, and allowing the French armies and navies (I may say the people of France en masse) to be imbued with the same principles of equality, that they were sowing the seeds of a revolution in their own country which was to bring the king, as well as the major part of the nobility, to the scaffold. "There, again, the events did not turn out accord- THE SETTLERS. 27 mg to expectation, and you will observe that in every attempt made by either party, the result was, that the blow fell upon their own heads, and not upon that of the party which it was intended to crush." "1 remember," said Alfred, after Mr. Campbell had finished speaking, "having somewhere read a story of an eastern king who purchased a proverb of a dervise, which he ordered to be engraven on all the gold and silver utensils in the palace. The prov- erb was, 'Never undertake anything until you have well considered the end.' It so happened, that there was a conspiracy against the king, and it was arranged that his surgeon should bleed him with a poisoned lancet. The surgeon agreed — the king's arm was bound up, and one of the silver basins was held to receive the blood* The surgeon read the in- scription, and was so struck with the force of it, that he threw down the lancet, confessed the plot, and thus was the life of the king preserved." "A very apt story, Alfred," said Mrs. Campbell. "The question now is," continued Alfred, "as two of the parties, France and England, have proved so short-sighted, whether the Americans, having thrown off their allegiance, have not been equally so in their choice of a democratical government ?" " How far a modern democracy may succeed, I am not prepared to say," replied Mr. Campbell; "but this I do know, that in ancient times, their duration was generally very short, and continually changing to oligarchy and tyranny. One thing is certain, that there is no form of government under which the people become so rapidly vicious, or where these who benefit them are treated Avith such ingratitude." " How do you account for that, sir ?" said Alfred. " There are two principal causes. One is, that where all men are declared to be equal (which man never will permit his fellow to be if he can prevent it), the only source of distinction is wealth, and thus the desire of wealth becomes the ruling passion of 28 THE SETTLERS. the whole body, and there is no passion so demoral- izing. The other is, that where ihe people, or, more properly speaking, the mob govern, they must be conciliated by flattery and servility on the part of those who would become their idols. ISIow flattery is lying, and a habit equally demoralizing to the party who gives and to the party who receives it. Depend upon it, there is no government so contemp- tible or so unpleasant for an honest man to live un- der as a democracy." " It is my opinion, sir, and I believe a very gene- ral one," said Alfred. "How far the Americans may disprove such an opinion," continued Mr. Campbell, " remains to be seen ; but this is certain, they have commenced their new form of government with an act of such gross injustice, as to warrant the assumption that all their boasted virtues are pretence. I refer to their not liberating their slaves. They have given the lie to their own assertions in their Declaration of Independence, in which they have declared all men equal — and born free, and we can not expect the Di- vine blessing upon those who, when th ey emancipated themselves, were so unjust as to hold their fellow- creatures in bondage. The time will come, I have no doubt, although perhaps not any of us here pres- ent may see the day, wnen the retribution will fall upon their heads, or rather upon the heads of their oflfspring; for the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children, even to the third and fourth generation. But it is time for us to think of retiring — good night, and God bless you all." THE SETTLERS. CHAPTER IV. In two days Malachi and John returned, bringing with them the skins of three bears which they had killed — but at this period of the year the animals were so thin and poor, that their flesh was not worth bringing home. Indeed, it was hardly worth while going out to hunt just then, so they both remained much at home, either fishing in the lake, or taking trout in the stream. Alfred and Martin were still occupied with the farm ; the seed had come up, and they were splitting rails for the prairie fence. About a fortnight after Captain Sinclair's departure, Colo- nel Forster came in a boat from the fort, to pay them a visit. "I assure you, Mr. Campbell," said he, "I was very anxious about you last winter, and I am rejoiced that you got over it with so little difficulty. At one time we had apprehensions of the Indians, but these have passed over for the present. They meet again this summer, but the Quebec government are on the alert, and I have no doubt but that a little concilia- tion will put an end to all animosity. We expect a large supply of blankets and other articles to be sent up this spring, as presents to the tribes, which we hope will procure their good will ; and we have taken up several French emissaries, who were work- ing mischief." "But still we shall be liable to the assaults of straggling parties," said Mr. Campbell. " That is true," replied the colonel, "but against them you have your own means of defence. You would, in so isolated a position, be equally liable to a burglary in England — only with the difference that 3* 30 THE SETTLERS. in England you would have the laws to appeal to, whereas here you must take the law into your own hands." "It certainly is not pleasant to be in a continual state of anxiety," observed Mr. Campbell, " but we knew what we had to expect before we came here, and we must make the best of it. So you have lost Captain Sinclair, colonel ; he is a great loss to us." " Yes, he is to go to England for a short time," replied the colonel, "but we shall soon have him back again. He must be very fond of his profession to remain in it with his means." " He told us he was about to take possession of a small property." " A property of nearly £2,000 per annum," replied the colonel. " He 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 sol- diers seldom can." The colonel then entered into conversation with Mr. Campbell, relative to his farm, and after many questions, he observed : — " I have been thinking, Mr. Campbell, that it will be very advantageous to the government as well as to you, when your farm is cleared and stocked, if with the water power you possess here, you were to erect a flour-mill and a saw-mill. You observe that the government has to supply the fort with flour and provisions of all kinds at a very heavy expense of carriage, 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 produce will be almost use- less to you, at the distance you are from any mart; as you will not find any sale for it. Now, if you THE SETTLERS. 31 were to erect a mill, and grind your own wheat ; which you may do in another year, if you have funds sufficient ; and as you may have plenty of stock, you will be able to supply the fort with flour, beef, pork, and mutton, at a good profit to yourself, and at one half the price which government pays at present. I have written to the governor on the subject, stating that We have not the means of keeping our stock, and pointing out to him what I now point out to you. I expect an answer in a few days, and should he au- thorize me, I may make arrangements with you even now, which will be satisfactory, I have no doubt." Mr. Campbell returned the colonel many thanks for his kindness, and of course expressed himself willing to be guided by his advice. He stated that he had funds not only sufficient to erect a mill, but also, if he were permitted, to pay for the labor of any party which the commandant would spare during the sum- mer season. " That is the very point which I wished to ascer- tain ; but I felt some delicacy about making the inquiry. Now I consider there will be no difficulty . our arrangements." The colonel remained for some time looking over thp farm and conversing with Mr. Campbell, and then took his leave. In the meantime, Alfred and his cousins went out to walk ; the weather was now beautifully clear, and in the afternoon the heat was not too oppressive. As they sauntered by the side of the stream, Mary said, " Well, Alfred, what do you think of the col- onel's proposition?" " Yes," observed Emma, "you are a party deeply concerned in it." " How so, dear coz ?" " Why, don't you perceive that if the mill is erected, you will be the proper person to have charge of it ? "What a change of professions, from a sailor to a miller. I think I see you in your coat, all white with tlour, coming in to dirner." 32 THE SETTLERS. " My dear Emma, you don't intend it, I am sure but you do not know that you are inflicting pain upon me. When the colonel made the proposition, I felt the importance of ir, as it would be a source of great profit to my father ; but at the same time, I don't know how it is, I have always indulged the idea that we may not stay here for ever, and this plan appeared so like decidedly settling down to a resi- dence for life, that it made me low-spirited. I know that it is foolish, and that we have no chance of ever removing — but still I can not, even with this almost certainty before my eyes, keep my mind from think- ing upon one day returning to my profession, and the idea of becoming a miller for life is what I can not as yet contemplate with any degree of composure." " Well, I only did it to tease you a little — no; to hurt your feelings, believe me," replied Emma. " You shall not be a miller if you don't like it. Henry will do better perhaps than you ; but as for our quitting ihis place, I have no idea of its being ever possible. I have made up my mind to live and die in the Canadian woods, considering it my way- ward fate that all 'my sweetness should be wasted on the desert air.' " " Repining is useless, if not sinful," observed Mary Percival. " We have much to be thankful for ; at least we are independent, and if we are ever to repay the kindness of our uncle and aunt, who must feel their change of condition so much more than we do, it must be by cheerfulness and content. I have been thinking as well as you, Alfred, and I'll tell you what was in my thoughts. I looked forward to a few years, by which time, as the country fills up so fast, it is very probable that we shall have other selllers here as neighbors, in every direction. This will give us security. I also fancied that my uncle's farm and property became of value and importance, and that he himself became a leading man in the district; not only at his ease, but, for a settler, even wealthy ; and then I fancied that, surrounded by THE SETTLERS. 33 others, in perfect security, and in easy and independ- ent circumstances, my uncle would not forget the great sacrifice which my cousin Alfred so nobly made, and would insist upon his returning to that profes- sion, to which he is so much attached, and in which I have no doubt but that he will distinguish himself." " Well said, my sweet prophet," said Alfred, kiss- ing his cousin, " you have more sense than both of us." " Answer for yourself, Alfred, if you please," said Emma, tossing her head as if affronted. " I shall not forget that remark of yours, I can assure you. Now, 1 prophesy quite 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 down into a Canadian farmer, mounted on a long-legged black pony." "And I too," replied Alfred, "prophesy, that at the same time that I marry and settle as you have described, Miss Emma Percival will yield up her charms to some long-legged, black, nondescript sort a fellow, who will set up a whiskey shop and install his wife as bar maid to attend upon and conciliate his customers." " Emma, I think you have the worst of this peep- ing into futurity," said Mary, laughing. " Yes, if Alfred were not a false prophet, of which there are always many going about," replied Emma ; " however, I hope your prophecy may be the true one, Mary, and then we shall get rid of him." " I flatter myself that you would be very sorry if I went away ; you would have no one to tease, at all events," replied Alfred, "and that would be a sad loss to yourself.'' " Well, there's some sense in that remark," said Emma ; " but the cows are waiting to be milked, and so, Mr. Alfred, if you are on your good behavior, you had better go and bring us the pails." " I really pity Alfred," said Mary, as soon as he was out of hearing ; " his sacrifice has been very 34 THE SETTLERS. great, and much as he must feel it, how well h« bears up against it." " He is a dear, noble fellow," replied Emma, " and I do love him very much, although I can not help teasing him." " But on some points you should be cautious, my dear sister ; you don't know what pain you give." " Yes I do, and am always sorry when I have done it, but it is not until 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 pass, and we shall have neighbors ; I wish we had, if it were only on account of those Indians." "I think it very probable," replied Mary; "but time will show." Alfred then returned with the pails, and the con- versation look another turn. A few days afterward, a corporal arrived from the fort bringing letters and newspapers ; the first that they had received since the breaking up of the win- ter. The whole family were in commotion as the intelligence was proclaimed ; Mary and Emma left the fowls which they were feeding ; Percival threw down the pail with which he was attending the pigs ; Alfred ran in from where he and Martin were busy splitting rails ; all crowded round Mr. Campbell as he opened the packet in which all the letters and papers had been enveloped at the fort. The letters were few ; three from Miss Paterson, and two other friends in England, giving them the English news; one to Alfred from Captain Lumley, inquiring after the family, and telling him that he had mentioned 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 enclosing a balance-sheet. THE SETTLERS. 35 The letters were first read over, and then the news- papers were distributed, and all of them were soon very busy and silent during the perusal. After a while, Emma read out. " Dear uncle, only hear this, how sorrv I am." "'What is it, my dear,'" said Mr. Campbell. " Mrs. Douglas Campbell, of Wexton Hall, of a son, which survived but a few hours after birth." " I am very sorry too, my dear Emma," replied Mr. Campbell; "Mr. Douglas Campbell's kindness to us must make us feel for any misfortune which may happen to him, and to rejoice in any blessing which may be bestowed upon him." "It must have been a serious disappointment," said Mrs. Campbell ; "but one which, if it pleases crod, may be replaced : and we may hope that their expectations, though blighted for the present, may be realized on some future occasion." "Here is a letter from Colonel Forster, which I overlooked," said Mr. Campbell ; "it was between the envelope. He says that he has received an an- swer from the governor, who fully agrees with him in his views on the subject we were conversing about, and has allowed him to take any steps which he may think advisable. The colonel says that he will call upon me again in a few days, and thai if, in the meantime, I will let him know how many sol- diers I wish to employ, he will make arrangements to meet my views as far as lies in his power. We have to thank Heaven for sending us friends, at all events," continued Mr. Campbell ; " but at present, we will put his letter aside, and return to our English news." " Dear England !" exclaimed Emma. " Yes, dear England, my good girl ; we are Eng- lish, and can love our country as much now as we did when we lived in it. We are still English and in an English colony ; it has pleased Heaven to remove us away from our native land, but our hearts and feelings are still the same, and so will all English 36 THE SETTLERS. hearts be found to be in every settlement made by our country all over the wide world. We all glory in being English, and have reason to be proud of our country. May the feeling never be lost, but have an elevating influence upon our general conduct '" CHAPTER V. It was very nearly five weeks before Henry re- turned from his expedition to Montreal. During lihis time, the colonel had repeated his visit and made arrangements with Mr. Campbell. A party of twenty soldiers had been sent to work at felling timber 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 progress was made in a short time, now that so many people were employed. They had also examined the stream for some distance, to ascertain which would be the most eligible site for the water-mill, and had selected one nearly half a mile from the shore of the lake, and where there was a considerable fall, and the stream ran with great rapidity. It was not, however, ex- pected that the mill would be erected until the fol- lowing year, as it was necessary to have a millwright and all the machinery from either Montreal or Que- bec. It was intended that the estimate of the expense should he given in, the contract made, and the order given during the autumn, so that it might be all ready for'the spring of the next year. It was on a Monday morning that Henry arrived from the fort, where he had stayed the Sunday, having reached it late on Saturday night. The bateaux, with the stock and stores, he had left at the fort ; they were to come round during the day, but Henry's impa- tience to Bee the family would not allow him to wait. He was, as may be supposed, joyfully received, and, as soon as the first recognitions were over, he pro- THE SETTLERS. 37 ceeded to acquaint his father with what he had done. He had obtained from a Canadian farmer forty ewes of very fair stock, although not anything equal to the English ; but the agent had worked hard for him, and procured him twenty English sheep and two rams of the best kind, to improve the breed. For the latter he had to pay rather dear, but they were worth any money to Mr. Campbell, who was quite delighted with the acquisition. In selecting the sheep, of course Henry was obliged to defend on the agent and the parties he employed, as he was no judge himself; but he had, upon his own judg» ment, purchased two Canadian horses, for Henry had been long enough at Oxford to know the points of a horse, and as they turned out, he had made a very good bargain. He had also bought a sow and pigs of an improved breed, and all the other commissions had been properly executed : the packages of skins also realized the price which had been put on them. As it may be supposed, he was full of news, talking about Montreal, the parties he had been invited to, and the people with whom he had become acquainted. He had not forgotten to purchase some of the latest English publications for his cousins, besides a few articles of millinery, which he thought not too gay for their present position. He was still talking, and probably would have gone on talking for hours longer, so many were the questions which he had to reply to, when Martin came in and announced the arrival of the bateaux with the stores and cattle, upon which they all went down to the beach to see them disembarked and brought up by the soldiers, who were at work. The stores were carried up to the door of ihe storehouse, and the sheep and horses were turned into the prairie with the cows. A week's rations for the soldiers were alao brought up from the fort, and the men were very busy in the distribution, and carrying them to the little tempo- rary huts of boughs which they had raised for their accommodation, during the time they worked for Vol. II.— 4 38 THE SETTLERS. Mr. Campbell. Before the evening set in everything was arranged, and Henry was again surrounded by the family and replying to their remaining interrog- atories. He told them that the governor of Montreal had sent them an invitation to pass the winter at Government house, and promised the young ladies that no wolf should venture to come near to them, and that the aides-de-camp had requested the honor of their hands at the first ball which should be given after their arrival, at which they all laughed heartily. In short, it appeared that nothing could equal the kindness and hospitality which had been shown to him, and that there was no doubt, if they chose to go there, that it would be equally extended to the other members of the family. There was a pause in the conversation, when Malachi addressed Mr. Campbell. "Martin wishes me to speak to you, sir," said Malachi. "Martin," said Mr. Campbell, looking round for him, and perceiving that he was not in the room ; " why, yes, I perceive he is gone out. What can it be that he can not say for himself?" " That's just what I said to him," replied Mala- chi ; " but he thought it were better to come through me ; the fact is, sir, that he has taken a liking to the Strawberry, and wishes 10 make her his wife." " Indeed !" "Yes, sir; I don't think that he would have said anything about it as yet, but you see, there are so many soldiers here, and two or three of them are of Martin's mind, and that makes him feel uncomfort- able till the thing is settled ; and as he can't well marry while in your service without your leave, he has asked me to speak about it." " Well, but the Strawberry is your property, not mine, Malachi." " Yes, sir, according to Indian fashion, I am her father ; but I've no objection, and sha'n't demand any presents for her." THE SETTLERS. 39 "Presents for her ! why we in general give pres ents or money with a wife," said Emma. "Yes, I know you do, but English wives a'n't In- dian wives ; an English wife requires people to work for her and costs money to keep, but an Indian wife works for herself and her husband, so she is of val- ue, and is generally bought of the father ; I reckon in the end that it's cheaper to pay for an Indian wife than to receive money with an English one ; but that's as may be." " That's not a very polite speech of yours, Mala- chi," said Mrs. Campbell. "Perhaps it an't, ma'am, but it's near the mark nevertheless. Now I am willing that Martin should have the Strawberry, because I know that he is a smart hunter, and will keep her well ; and somehow or another, I feel that if he made her his wife, I should be more comfortable ; I shall live with them here close by, and Martin will serve you, and when he has a wife he will not feel inclined" to change ser- vice, and go into the woods." " I think it an excellent proposal, Malachi, and am much pleased with it, as we now shall have you all together," said Mrs. Campbell. " Yes, ma'am, so you will, and then I'll be always with the boy to look after him, and you'll always know where we are, and not be frightened." "Very true, Malachi," said Mr. Campbell; "I consider it a very good arrangement. We must build you a better' lodge than the one that you are in." " No, sir, not a better one, lor if you have all you want, you can't want more ; it's big enough, but per- haps not quite near enough. I'm thinking that when the sheepfold is finished it might be as well to raise our lodge inside of the palisades, and then we shall be a sort of guard to the creatures." " A very excellent idea, Malachi ; well then, as far as I am concerned, Martin has my full consent to marry as soon as he pleases." 40 THE SETTLERS. "And mine, if it is at all necessary," observed Mrs. Campbell. " But who is to marry them ?" said Emma ; they have no chaplain at the fort ; he went away ill last year." " Why, miss, they don't want no chaplain ; she is an Indian girl, and he will marry her Indian-fashion." "But what fashion is that, Malachi?" said Mary. " Why, miss, he'll come to the lodge, and fetch her away to his own house."' Alfred burst out into laughter ; " Thai's making short work of it," said he. " Yes, rather too short for my approval," said Mrs. Campbell. " Malachi, it's very true that the Straw- berry 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 can not consent to give my sanction to such a marriage." "Well, ma'am, as you please, but it appears to me to be all right. If you go into a country and wish to marry a girl of that country, you marry her according to the rules of that country. Now, Mar- tin seeks an Indian squaw, 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 al- lowances for our prejudices. We never should think that she was a married woman, if no further cere- mony was to take place than what you propose." " Well, ma'am, just as you please ; but still, sup- pose you marry them after your fashion, the girl won't understand a word that is said, so what good will it do ?" " None to her at present, Malachi ; but recollect, if she is not a Christian at present, she may be here- after ; I have often thought upon that subject, and although I feel it useless to speak to her just now, yet as soon as she understands English well enough to know what I say to her, I hope to persuade her to become one. Now, if she should become a Chris- THE SETTLERS. 41 tian, as I hope in God she will, she then will per* ceive that she has not been properly married, and will be anxious to have the ceremony properly per- formed over again ; so why not do it now l" " Well, ma'am, if it pleases you, I have no objec- tion ; I'm sure Martin will have none." "It will please me very much, Malachi," replied Mrs. Campbell. "And although there is no chaplain at the fort," observed Mr. Campbell, "yet the colonel can marry in his absence ; a marriage by a commanding officer is quite legal." " Yes," replied Alfred, " and so is one by a cap- tain of a man-of-war." "So be it then," replied Malachi; "the sooner the better, for the soldiers are very troublesome, and I can not keep them out of my lodge." Martin, who had remained outside the door, and overheard all that passed, noAVcame in ; the subject was again canvassed, and Martin returned his thanks for the permission given to him. "Well," said Emma, "I little thought we should have a wedding in the family so soon ; this is quite an event. Martin, I wish you joy ; you will have a very pretty and a very good wife." " I think so too, miss," replied Martin. " Where is she?" said Mary. " She is in the garden, miss," said Malachi, "get- ting out of the way of the soldiers ; now that the work is done, they torment her not a little, and she is elad to escape from them ; I'd tell them to go away, but they don't mind me ; they know I must not use my rifle." " I should hope not," replied Mrs. Campbell ; " it Avould be hard to sJioot a good man merely because he wished to marry your daughter." " Why, yes, ma'am, it would," replied Malachi ; " so the sooner she is given to Martin, the sooner we shall have peace." As the boat was continually going backward and 4* 42 THE SETTLERS. f6rward between the fort and the farm, Mr. Camp- bell wrote to the colonel, stating what they wished him to do, and the colonel appointed that day week, on which he would come and perform the ceremony. It was a little fete at the farm. Mrs. Campbell and the Miss Percivals dressed themselves more than usually smart, so did all the males of the establish- ment ; and a better dinner than usual was prepared, as the colonel and some of the officers were to dine and spend the day with them. Martin was very gayly attired, and in high spirits. The Strawberry had 'on a new robe of "young deerskin, and had a flower or two in her long black hair ; she looked as she was, very pretty and very modest, but not at all embarrassed. The marriage ceremony was explain- ed to her by Malachi, and she cheerfully consented. Before noon the marriage took place, and an hour or two afterward, they sat down to a well-furnished table, and the whole party were very merry, partic- ularly as the colonel, who was most unusually gay, insisted upon the Strawberry sitting at the table, which she had never done before. She acquitted herself, however, without embarrassment, and smiled when thev laughed, although she could understand but little of what they said. Mr. Campbell opened two of his bottles of wine, to celebrate the day, and they had a very happy party ; the only people who were discontented were three or four of the soldiers outside, who had wanted to marry the Strawberry themselves; but the knowledge that their colonel was there, effectually put a stop to anything like annoyance or disturbance on their parts. At sunset, the colonel and officers departed for the fort, the family remained in the house till past ten o'clock, by which time all the soldiers had gone to bed. Mr. Campbell then read prayers, and offered up an addi- tional one for the happiness of the newly-married couple, after which they all saluted the Strawberry and wished her good night; she was then led to the lodge by Martin, accompanied by Alfred, Henry, THE SETTLERS. 43 Malachi, Percival, and John, who all went home with them as a guard from any interruption on the part of the disappointed suiters. CHAPTER VI. "How cheerful and gay everything looks now," observed Emma to Mary, a few mornings after the celebration of the marriage. " One could hardly credit that in a few months all this animated land- scape will be nothing but one dreary mass of snow and ice, with no sounds meeting the ear but the howling of the storm and the howling of the wolves." " Two very agreeable additions certainly," replied Mary ; " but what you observe was actually occur- ring to my own mind at the very moment." The scene was indeed cheerful and lively. The prairie on one side of the stream waved its high grass to the summer breeze ; on the other, the cows, horses, and sheep, were grazing in every direction. The lake in the distance was calm and unruffled; the birds were singing and chirping merrily in the woods ; near the house the bright green of the her- bage was studded with the soldiers, dressed in white, employed in various ways ; the corn waved its yel- low 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 fowls, and the occasional bleating of the calves, responded to by the lowing of the cows, gave life and animation to the picture. At a short distance from the shore the punt was floating on the still wa- ters. John and Malachi were very busy fishing ; the dogs were lying down by the palisades, all except Oscar, who, as usual, attended upon his young mis- tresses ; and under the shade of a large tree, at a .ittle distance from the house, were Mr. Campbell 44 THE SETTLEBS. and Percival, the former reading while the other was conning over his lesson. " This looks but little like a wilderness now, Mary, does it ?" said Emma. " No, my dear sister. It is very different from what it was when we first came ; but still I should like to have some neighbors." " So should I ; any society is better than none at all." "There I do not agree with you; at the same time, I think we could find pleasure in having about us even those who are not cultivated, provided they w^re respectable and good." " Thai's what I would have said, Mary : but we must go in, and practise the new air for the guitar which Henry brought us from Montreal. We prom- ised him that we would. Here comes Alfred to spend his idleness upon us." " His idleness, Emma ; surely, you don't mean that ; he's seldom, if ever, unemployed. '• " Some people are very busy about nothing," re- plied Emma. " Yes ; and some people say what they do not mean, sister," replied Mary. "Well, Alfred, here is Emma pronouncing you to be an idle body." " I am not likely to be that, at all events," replied Alfred, taking off his hat and fanning himself. " My father proposes to give me enough to do. What do you think he said to me this morning before break- fast ?" " I suppose he said that you might as well go to sea again as remain here," replied Emma, laughing. " No, indeed ; I wish he had ; but lie has pro- posed that your prophecy should be fulfilled, my malicious little cousin. He has proposed my turning miller." Emma clapped her hands and laughed. " How do you mean?" said Mary. u Why, lie pointed out to me that the mill would THE SETTLERS. 45 *ost about two hundred and fifty pounds, and that he thought as my half-pay was unemployed, that it would be advisable that I should expend it in erect- ing the mill, offering me the sum necessary for the purpose. He would advance the money, and I might repay him as I received my pay. That, he 6aid, would be a provision for me, and eventually an independence." " I told you that you would be a miller," replied Emma, laughing. " Poor Alfred !" " Well, what did you reply, Alfred?" said Mary. " I said yes, I believe, because I did not like to say uo." "You did perfectly right, Alfred," replied Mary. " There can be no harm in your having the property, and had you refused it, it would have given pain to your father. If your money is laid out on the mill, my uncle will have more to expend upon the farm ; but still it does not follow that you are to become a miller all your life." " I should hope not," replied Alfred ; "as soon as Emma meets with that long black gentleman we were talking of, I'll make it over to her as a mar- riage portion." " Thank you, cousin," replied Emma, " I may put you in mind of your promise ; but now Mary and I must go in and astonisli the soldiers with our music ; so good-by, Mr. Campbell, the miller." The soldiers had now been at work for more than two months, a large portion of the wood had been felled and cleared away. With what had been cleared by Alfred, and Martin, and Henry the year before, they had now more than forty acres of corn- land. The rails for the snake-fence had also been split, and the fence was almost complete, round the whole of the prairie and cleared land, when it was time for the grass to be cut down and the hay made and gathered up. This had scarcely been finished when the corn was ready for the sickle and gathered m, a barn had been raised close to the sheepfold as 46 THE SETTLERS. well as the lodge for Malachi, Martin and his wife. For six weeks all was bustle and hard work, but the weather was fine, and everything was got in safe. The services of the soldiers were now no longer required, and Mr. Campbell having settled his ac- counts, they returned to the fort. " Who would think," said Henry to Alfred, as he cast his eyes over the buildings, the stacks of eorn and hay, and the prairie stocked with cattle, " thai we had only been here so short a time ?" " 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 a good return." "You have heard of the proposal of Colonel For- ster, about the cattle at the fort?" "No ; what is it?" " He wrote to my father yesterday, saying, as he had only the means of feeding the cows necessary for the officers of the garrison, that he would sell all the oxen at present at the fort at a very moderate price." " But even if we have fodder enough for them during the winter, what are we to do with them?" " Sell them again to the fort for the supply of the troops," replied Henry, " and thereby gain good profit. The commandant says that it will be cheaper to government in the end than being compelled to feed them." "That it will, I have n6 doubt, now that they have nothing to give them ; they trusted chiefly to our prairie for hay ; and if they had not had such a quantity in store, they could not have fed them last winter." "My father will consent, I know; indeed, he would be very foolish not to do so, for most of them will be killed when the winter sets in, and will only cost us the grazing." "We are fortunate in finding such friends as we THE SETTLERS. 47 have done," replied Alfred. "All this assistance 2 THE SETTLERS. in the house, and attending the stock. They had brought up a large number of chickens, and had dis- posed of a great many to the colonel and officers of the fort. Their pigs also had multiplied exceeding- ly, and many had been put up to fatten, ready to be killed and salted down. The time for that occupa- tion was now come, and they were very busy curing their meat ; they had also put up a small shed for smoking their bacon and hams. Already they were surrounded with comfort and plenty, andfelt grateful to Heaven that they had been so favored. The aulumn had now advanced, and their routine of daily duty was seldom interrupted ; now and then a visit was paid them from the fort by one or other of the officers or the commandant. The Indians had held their council, but the English agent was pres- ent, and the supply of blankets and other articles sent to the chiefs for distribution had the expected effect of removing all animosity. It is true that the Angry Snake and one or two more made very violent speeches, but they were overruled. The calumet of peace had been presented and smoked, and all danger appeared to be over from that quarter. Mal- achi had gone to the council and was well received. He had been permitted to speak also as an English agent, and his words were not without effect. Thus everything wore the appearance of peace and pros- perity, when an event occurred which we shall now relate. What is termed the Indian summer had com- menced, during which there is a kind of haze in the atmosphere. One morning, a little before dawn, Mary and Emma, who happened to be up first, went out to milk the cows, when they observed that the haze was much thicker than usual. They had been expecting the equinoctial gales, which were very late this year, and Mary observed that she foresaw they were coming on, as the sky wore every appear- ance of wind ; yet still there was but a light air, and hardly perceptible at the time. In a moment after THE SETTLERS. 53 they had gone out, and were taking up their pails, Strawberry came to them from her own lodge, and they pointed to the gloom and haze in the air. She turned round, as if to catch the wind, and snuffed for a little while ; at last she said, " Great fire in the woods." Alfred and the others soon joined them, and 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. Mal- achi and John had not returned that night from a hunting expedition, but shortly after daylight they made their appearance ; they had seen the fire in the distance, and said that it was to northward and east- ward, and extended many miles ; that they had been induced to leave the chase and come home in con- sequence. 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 northeast, the direction in which the fire had been seen. Mal- achi 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 be- fore twelve o'clock on the next day, the smoke waa 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 quarter which it now does, as hard as it does, for another twenty-four hours, we shall have the fire right down upon us." *' But still we have so much clear land between the forest and us, that I should think the house would be safe." " I don'i know that, sir. You have never seen the woods a-fire for miles as I have ; if you had, you 5* 04 the settlers. would know what it was. We have two chances ; one is that we may have torrents of rain come down with the gale, and the other is, that the wind may shift a point or two, which would be the best chance for us of the two." But the wind did not shift, and the rain did not descend, and before the evening set in, the fire was within two miles of them, and distant roaring rent the air; the heat and smoke became more oppres- sive, and the party were under great alarm. As the sun set, the wind became even more vio- lent, and now the flames 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, and lowing with fear. There they remained, knee-deep in the water, and huddled together. "Well, Malachi," said Mr. Campbell, "this is very awful. What shall we do ?" " Trust in God, sir ; we can do nothing else," re- plied Malachi. The flames were now but a short distance from the edge of the forest ; they threw themselves up into the air in high columns ; 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 is 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. Camp- THE SETTLEKS. 55 bell took his wife by the arm ; Henry led the girle, for the smoke was so thick that they could not see the way. Percival and Strawberry followed. Al- fred 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 crowd- ed, but being flat-bottomed she bore the load well. They pulled out about half a mile into the lake, be- fore they found themselves in a less oppressive at- mosphere. Not a word was spoken until Martin and Alfred had stopped rowing. "And old Malachi and John, where are they?" said Mrs. Campbell, who, now that they were clear of the smoke, discovered that these were not in the boat. " Oh, never fear them, 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 John too." "This is an awful visitation," said Mrs. Camp- bell, after a pause. " Look, the whole wood is now on fire, close down to the clearing. The house must be burnt, and we shall save nothing." " It is the will of Cod, my dear wife ; and if we are to be deprived of what little wealth we have, we must not murmur, but submit with resignation. Let us thank Heaven that our lives are preserved." Another pause ensued ; at last the silence was broken by Emma. " There is the cow-house on fire — I see the flames bursting from the roof." Mrs. Campbell, whose hand was on that of her husband, squeezed it in silence. It was the com- mencement of the destruction of their whole prop- erty — all their labors and efforts had been throAvn away. The winter was coming on, and thev w-ould 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 £6 THE SETTLERS. straight to the sky. Martin perceived it, and jumped 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 of an hour and we may be safe." Martin was correct in his observation ; the wind had lulled for a moment, and he had fell the drops of rain. This pause continued for about three or four minuies, during which the cow-house burnt furious- ly, but the ashes and sparks were no longer hurled down on the prairie ; then suddenly the wind shifted to the southeast, with such torrents of rain as almost to blind them. So violent was the gust, that even the punt careened to it ; but Alfred pulled its head round smartly, and put it before the wind. The gale was now equally strong from the quarter to which it had changed ; the lake became agitated and covered with white foam, and before the punt reached the shore again, which it did in a few minutes, the water washed over its two sides, and they were in danger of swamping. Alfred directed them all to sit still, and raising the blades of the oars up into the air, the punt was dashed furiously through the waves, till it grounded on the beach. Martin and Alfred jumped out into the water and hauled the punt further before they disembarked ; the rain still poured down in torrents, and they were wet to the skin ; as they landed, they were met by Malachi and John. " It's all over, and all is safe !" exclaimed Mala- chi. "It was touch and go, that's sartain ; but all's safe, except the cow-house, and that's easily put to rights again. You all had better go home as fast as you can, and get to bed." "Is all quite safe, do you think, Malachi?" said Mr. Campbell. " Yes, sir, no fear now ; the fire hasn't passed the stream, and even if it had, this rain would put it THE SETTLERS. 57 out, for we only have the beginning of it ; but it was a near thing, that's sartain." The party walked back to the house, and as soon as they had entered, Mr. Campbell kneeled down and thanked Heaven for their miraculous preservation. All joined heartily in the prayer, and, after they had waited up a few minutes, by which time they were satisfied that the flames were fast extinguishing and they had nothing more. to fear, they took off their clothes, and retired to bed. The next morning they rose early, for all were anxious to ascertain the mischief which had been oc- casioned by the fire. The cow-house, on the oppo- site side of the stream, was the only part of the prem- ises which had severely suffered ; the walls were standing, but the roof was burnt. On the side of the stream where the house stood, the rails and many portions of the buildings were actually charred, and, had it not been for the providential change of the wind and the falling of the rain, must in a few min- utes have been destroyed. The prairie was covered with cinders, and the grass was burnt and withered. The forest on the other side of the stream to a great extent was burnt down ; some of the largest trees still remained, throwing out their blackened arms, now leafless and branchless, to the sky, but they were never to throw forth a branch or leaf again. It was a melancholy and desolate picture, and rendered still more so by the heavy rain which still continued to pour down without intermission. As they were surveying the scene, Malachi and Martin came to them. " The stock are all right, sir," said Martin ; "I counted them, and there is not one missing. There's no harm done except to the cow-house ; on the con- trary, the fire has proved a good friend to us." " How so, Martin ?" asked Mr. Campbell. " Because it has cleared many acres of ground, and saved us much labor. All on the other side of the stream is now cleared away, and next spring we 53 THE SETTLERS. will have our corn between the stumps ; and in au- tumn, after we have gathered in, the harvest, we will cut down and burn the tr,ees which are now standing. It has done a deal of good to the prairie also, we shall have fine herbage there next spring." " We have to thank Heaven for its mercy," said Mr. Campbell ; " at one time yesterday evening, I thought we were about to be rendered destitute in- deed, but it has pleased God that it should be other- wise." " Yes, sir," observed Malachi ; "what threatened your ruin has turned out to your advantage. Next year you will see everything green and fresh as be- fore ; and, as Martin says, you have to thank the fire for clearing away more land for you than a whole regiment of soldiers could have done in two or three years." " But we must work hard and get in the corn next spring, for otherwise the brushwood will grow up so fast, as to become a forest again in a few years." "I never thought of inquiring," said Mary, "how it was that the forest could have taken fire." "Why, miss," replied Malachi, "in the autumn, when everything is as dry as tinder, nothing is more easy. The Indians light their fire, and do not take the trouble to put it out, and that is generally the cause of it ; but then it requires wind to help it." The danger that they had escaped made a serious impression on the whole party, and the following day, being Sunday, Mr. Campbell did not forget to offer up a prayer of thankfulness for their preserva- tion. The roof of the cow-house was soon repaired by Alfred and Martin, and the Indian summer passed away without any further adventure. The day after the fire, a despatch arrived from the fort to ascertain their welfare, and the colonel and officers were greatly rejoiced to learn that, compara- tively so little damage had been done, for they ex- pected to find that the family had been burnt out, THE SETTLERS. 59 and had made arrangements at the fort to receive them. Gradually the weather became cold and the fires were lighted, and a month after the evil we have described, the winter again set in. CHAPTER VIII. Once more was the ground covered with snow to to the depth of three feet. The cattle were littered down inside the enclosure of palisades round the cow-house; the sheep were driven into the enclosed sheep-fold, and the horses were put into a portion of the barn in the sheep-fold which had been parted off for them. All was made secure and every prep- aration made for the long winter. Although there had been a fall of snow, the severe frost had not yet come on. It did, however, in about a fortnight af- terward, and then, according to the wishes of the colonel, six oxen were killed for the use of the fort and taken there by the horses on a sledge ; this was the last task that they had to fulfil, and then Alfred bade adieu to the officers of the fort, as they did not expect to meet again till the winter was over. Hav- ing experienced one winter, they were more fully fully prepared for the second : and as Malachi, the Strawberry, and John, were now regular inmates of the house, for they did not keep a separate table, there was a greater feeling of security, and the monotony and dreariness were not so great as in the preceding winter: moreover, everything was now in its place, and they had more to attend to — two circumstances which greatly contributed to relieve the ennui arising from continual confinement. The hunting parties went out as usual ; only Henry, and occasionally Alfred, remained at home to attend to the stock, and to perform oilier offices which the increase of their establishment required. The new 60 THE SETTLERS. books brought by Henry from Montreal, and which by common consent had been laid aside for the win- ter's evenings, were now a great source of amuse- ment, as Mr. Campbell read aloud a portion of them every evening. Time passed away quickly, as it always does when there is a regular routine of du- ties and employment, and Christmas came before they were aware of its approach. It was a great comfort to Mrs. Campbell that she now always had John at home, except when he was out hunting, and on that score she had long dis- missed all anxiety, as she had full confidence in Malachi ; but latterly Malachi and John seldom went out alone; indeed, the old man appeared to like being in company, and his misanthropy had wholly disappeared. He now invariably spent his evenings with the family assembled round the kitch- en fire, and had become much more fond of hearing his own voice. John did not so much admire these evening parties. He cared nothing for new books, or indeed any books. He would amuse himself making mocassins, or working porcupine quills with the Strawberry at one corner of the fire, and the others might talk or read, it was all the same, John never said a word or appeared to pay the least at- tention to what was said.' His father occasionally tried to make him learn something, but it was use- less. He would remain for hours with his book he- fore him, but his mind was elsewhere. Mr. Camp- bell, therefore, gave up the attempt for the present, indulging the hope that when John was older, he would be more aware of the advantages of education, and would become more attentive. At present, it was only inflicting pain on the boy without any ad- vantage being gained. But John did not always sit by the kitchen fire. The wolves were much more numerous than in the preceding winter, having been attracted by the sheep which were within the pali- sade, and every night the howling was incessant. The howl of a wolf was sufficient to make John THE SETTLERS. Gl seize his rifle and leave ihe house, and he would re- main in the snow for hours till one came sufficiently near for him to fire, and he had already killed seve- ral when a circumstance occurred which was the cause of great uneasiness. John was out one evening as usual, crouched down within tlie palisades and watching for the wolves. It was a bright starry night, but there was no moon, when he perceived one of the animals crawling along almost on its belly, close to the door of the palisade which surrounded the house. This surprised him, as generally speaking, the animals prowled round the palisade which encircled the sheep-fold, or else close to the pig-sties which were at the opposite side from the entrance door. John levelled his rifle and fired, when to his astonishment, the wolf appeared to spring up in ihe air on his hind legs, then fall down and roll away. The key of the palisade door was always kept within, and John determined to go in and fetch it, that he might as- certain whether he had killed the animal or not. When he entered, Malachi said, "Did you kill, my boy?" "Don't know," replied John; "come for the key to see." "I don't like the gate being opened at night, John," said Mr. Campbell ; " why don't you leave it as you usually do till to-morrow morning ; that wdl be time enough ?" " I don't know if it was a wolf," replied John. " What then, boy, tell me ?" said Malachi. " Well, I think it was an Indian," replied John ; who then explained what had passed. " Well, I shouldn't wonder," replied Malachi ; " at all events the gale must not be opened to-night, for if it was an Indian you fired at, there is more than one of them ; we'll keep all fast, John, and see what it Avas to-morrow." Mrs. Campbell and the girls were much alarmed Vol. II.— 6 62 THE SETTLEKS. at this event, and it was with difficulty that they were persuaded to retire to rest. " We will keep watch to-night at all events," said Malachi, as soon as Mrs. Campbell and her neices had left the room. " The boy is right, I have no doubt. It is the Angry Snake and his party who are prowl- ing about, but if the boy has hit the Indian, which 1 have no doubt of, they will make off; however, it will be just as well to be on our guard, nevertheless. Martin can watch here, and I will watch in the fold." We have before observed that the lodge of Mala- chi, Martin, and his wife, was built within the pali- sade of the sheep-fold, and that there was a passage from the palisade round the house to that which sur- rounded the sheep-fold, which passage had also a palisade on each side of it. " I will watch here," said Alfred ; " let Martin go home with you and his wife." " I will watch with you," said John. " Well, perhaps that will be better," said Mala- chi ; " two rifles are better than one, and if any as- sistance is required, there will be one to send for it." "But what do you think they would do, Mala- chi ?" said Mr. Campbell ; " they can not climb the palisades." " Not well, sir, nor do I think they would attempt it unless they had a large force, which I am sure they have not ; no, sir, they would rather endeavor to set fire to the house if they could, but that's not so easy ; one thing is certain, that the Snake will try all he can to get possession of what he saw in your storehouse." ♦'That I do not doubt," said Alfred ; " but he will not find it quite so easy a matter." "They've been reconnoitring, sir, that's the truth of it, and if John has helped one of them to a bit of lead, it will do good ; lor it will prove to them that we are on the alert, and make ihem careful how they come near the house again." THE SETTLERS. Q3 After a few minutes' more conversation, Mr. Camp- bell, Henry, and Percival, retired, leaving the others to watch. Alfred walked home with Malachi and his party to see if all was right at the sheep-fold, and then returned. The night passed without any further disturbance except the howling of the wolves, to which thej were accustomed. _ The next morning at daybreak, Malachi and Mar- tin came to the house, and with John and Alfred, they opened the palisade gate, and went out to sur- vey the spot where John had fired. "Yes, sir," said Malachi ; " it was an Indian, no doubt of it ; here are the dents made in the snow by his knees as he crawled along, and John has hit him, for here is the blood. Let's follow the trail. See, sir, he has been hard hit; there is more blood this way as we go on. " Ha !" continued Malachi, as he passed by a mound of snow ; " here's the wolf-skin he was covered up with ; then he is dead or there- abouts, and they have carried him off, for he never would have parted with his skin, if he had had his senses about him." " Yes," observed Martin, " his wound was mortal, that's certain." They pursued the track till they arrived at the for- est, and then, satisfied by the marks on the snow that the wounded man had been carried away, they re- turned to the house, when they found the rest of the family dressed and in the kitchen. Alfred showed them the skin of the wolf, and informed them of what they had discovered. " I am grieved that blood has been shed," observed Mrs. Campbell; "I wish it had not happened. I have heard that the Indians never forgive on such occasions " "Why, ma'am, they are very revengeful, that's certain, but still they won't like to risk loo much. Ihis has been a lesson to them. I only wish it had been thp Angry Snake himself who was settled, as 64 THE SETTLERS. then we should have no more trouble or anxiety about them." "Perhaps it may be," said Alfred. '•No, sir, that's not likely; it's one of his young men ; I know the Indian customs well." It was some time before the alarm occasioned by this event subsided in the minds of Mrs. Campbell and her nieces; Mr. Campbell also thought much about it, and betrayed occasional anxiety. The par- ties went out hunting as before, but those at home now felt anxious till they returned from the chase. Time, however, and not hearing anything more of the Indians, gradually revived their courage, and be- fore the winter was half over they thought little about it. Indeed, it had been ascertained by Malachi from another band of Indians which he fell in with near a small lake where they were trapping beaver, that the Angry Snake was not in that part of the country, but had gone with his band to the westward at the commencement of the new year. This satis- fied them that the enemy had left immediately after the attempt which he had made to reconnoitre the premises. The hunting parties, therefore, as we said, con- tinued as before ; indeed, they were necessary for the supply of so 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 winter. This was very natural. lie saw his younger brother go out almost daily, and seldom return without having been successful ; indeed, John was, next to Malachi, the best shot of the party. It was, therefore, very an- noying to Percival that he should always be detained at home doing all the drudgery of the house, such as feeding the pigs, cleaning knives, and other menial work, while his younger brother was doing the duty of a man. To Percival's repeated entreaties, objec- tions were constantly raised by his mother: they could net spare him, he was not accustomed to walk THE SETTLERS. 65 in snow-shoes. Mr. Campbell observed that Perci- val became dissatisfied and unhappy, and Alfred took his part and pleaded for him. Alfred observed very truly, that the Strawberry could occasionally do Per- cival's work, and that if it could be avoided, be should not be cooped up 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 objection toPerci- val 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. Campbell, "and I assure you it is not out of selfishness, 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 can not overcome, and there is no arguing with a mother's fears and a mother's love." "You were quite as uneasy, my dear aunt, when John first went out ; you were continually in alarm about him, but now you are perfectly at ease," re- plied Emma. " Very true," said Mrs. Campbell ; " it is, perhaps, a weakness on my part which I ought to get over ; but we are all liable to such feelings. I trust in God there is no real cause for apprehension, and that my reluctance is a mere weakness and folly- But I see the poor boy has long pined at being kept at home ; for nothing is more irksome to a high-couraged and spirited boy as he is. I have, therefore, given my consent, because I think it is my duty ; still the feel- ing remains, so let us say no more about it, my dear girls, for the subject is painful to me." "My dear aunt, did you not say that you would talk to Strawberry on the subject of religion, and try if you could not persuade her to become a Chris- tian ? She is very serious at prayers, J observe ; and 6* 66 THE SETTLERS. 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 hur- ry. A mere conforming to the usages of our reli- gion would be of little avail, and I fear that too manv of our good missionaries, in their anxiety to make converts, do not sufficiently consider this point. Religion must proceed from conviction, and be seat- ed 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. Jt is in many respects so near what is right, that In- dians do not easily perceive the necessity of change. They believe in one God, 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 insufficient sense of their manifold transgressions and offences in God's sight, and con- sequently have no idea of the necessity of a media- tor. 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 1 have had many hours of reflection upon the proper course to pursue, and I do intend to have some conversation with her on the subject, in a very short time. 1 have delayed because I con- sider it absolutely necessary that she should be per- fectly aware of what I say, before I try to alter her belief. Now, the Indian language, although quite sufficient fur Indian wants, is poor and has not the same copiousness as ours, because they do not re- quire 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, THE SETTLERS. 67 that the Strawberry now begins to comprehend suf- ficiently for me to make the first attempt. I say first attempt, because I have no idea of making a con- vert 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 en- lighten her mind to receive his truth." The next day the hunting party went out, and Percival, to his great delight, was pepmitted to ac- company 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 hav- ing particularly requested that they would not re- turn home late. CHAPTER IX. The party had proceeded many miles before they arrived at the spot where Malachi thought that they 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 open part of the forest, and the snow lay in large drifrs, but here and there on the hill-sides the grass was nearly bare, and the deer were able, by scraping with their feet, to obtain some food. They were all pretty well close together when they arrived. Percival and Henry were about a quarter of a mile behind, for Percival was not used to the snow-shoes, and did not jjet on so well as the others. Malachi and the rest with him halted, that Henry and Percival might come up with them, and then, after they had recovered their 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 onlv cute of hear- 68 THE SETTLERS. ing 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 at- tempt 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, before we go upon the open ground, and then, Master Percival, you must du as we do, and keep behind, to watch our motions. If we come to a swell in the land, you must not run up, or even Avalk up, as you might show yourself; the deer might be on the other side, within twenty yards of you ; but you must hide yourself, as you will see that we shall do, and when we have found them, I will put you in a place where you shall have your, 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 get to leeward, and then Ave shall see whether you will make a hunter or not." The whole party 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 the animals. At last they arrived at the spot which Malachi desired, and then they changed their course, eastward toward the more open ground, where they expected to find the deer. As they entered upon the open ground, they moved forward crouched to the ground, Malachi and Martin in the advance. When in the hollows, they all collected together, but on ascending a swell of the land, it was either Malachi or Martin who first crept up, and, looking over the summit, gave notice to the others to come forward. This was continually repeated for three or four miles, when Martin having raised his head just above a swell, made a signal to them who were below that the deal THE SETTLERS. 69 were in sight. After a moment or two reconnoi- tring, he went down and informed them that there were twelve or thirteen head of deer scraping up the snow about one hundred yards a-head of them, upon another swell of the land; but that they ap- peared to be alarmed and anxious, as if they had an idea of danger being near. Malachi then again crawled up to make his ob- servations, and returned. "It is sartain," said he, "that they are flurried about something ; 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 wheth- er any other parties have been hunting them." They waited about ten minutes, till the animals appeared more settled, and then, by altering their position behind the swell, gained about twenty-five yards of distance. Malachi told each party which animal to aim at, and they fired nearly simultane- ously. Three of the beasts fell, two others were wounded, the rest of the herd bounded off like the wind. They all rose from behind the swell and ran forward to their prey. Alfred had fired at a fine buck which stood apart from the rest, and somewhat farther 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 there was little chance of obtaining it, as it bounded away after the rest of the herd. They all ran up to Avhere the animals lay dead, and as soon as they had re- loaded 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 beast. Alfred, who was in advance, perceived that a puma (catamount, or painter, as it is usually termed) had taken possession of the deer, and was lying over the carcase. He levelled his rifle and fired , the beast, 70 THE SETTLER3. although badly wounded, immediately sprang at him and seized him by the shoulder. Alfred was sink- ing under the animal's weight and from the pain he was suffering, when Martin came to his rescue, and put his rifle ball through the head of the beast, which fell dead. "Are you much hurt, sir ?•' said Martin. " No, "not much," replied Alfred ; " at least 1 think not, but my shoulder is badlv torn, and 1 bleed freely." Malachi and the others now came up, and per- ceived 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 wesi. Are you hurt, Mr. Alfred?" " Yes, a little," replied Alfred, fainlly. Malachi and Martin, without saying another word, stripped off Alfred's hunting-coat, and then discovered that he had received a very bad wound in the shoulder from the teeth of the beast, and that his side was also torn by the animal's claws. " John, run for some water," said Malachi ; " you are certain to find some in the hollow." John and Percival both hastened in search of wa- ter, while Malachi, and Martin, and Henry, tore Alfred's shirt into strips and bound up the wounds, so as to stop in a great measure the flow of blood. As soon as this was done and he had drunk the wa- ter brought to him in John's hat, Alfred felt revived. " I will sit down for a little longer," said he, " and then we will get home as fast as we can. Martin, look after the game, and when you are ready I will get up. What a tremendous heavy brute that was ; I could not have stood against him for a minute longer, and I had no hunting-knife." "It's a terrible beast, sir," replied Malachi. "1 don't know that I ever saw one larger; they are more than a match for one man, sir, and never THE SETTLERS. 71 should be attempted single-handed, for they are so hard to kill." " Wbere did my ball hit him ?" said Alfred. "Here, sir, under the shoulder, and well placed too. It must have gone quite close to his heart ; but unless you hit them through the brain or through the heart, they are certain to make their dying spring. That's an ugly wound on your shoulder, and will put a stop to your hunting for five or six weeks, I expect. However, it's well that it's no worse." " I feel quite strong now," replied Alfred. "Another ten minutes, sir ; let John and and me whip off his skin, for we must have it to show, if we have all the venison spoiled. Mr. Henry, tell Martin only to take the prime pieces and not to mind the hides, for we shall not be able to carry much. And tell him to be quick, Mr. Henry, for it will not do for Mr. Alfred to remain till his arm gets stiff. We have mmiy miles to get home again." In the course of ten minutes, Malachi and John had skinned the puma, and Martin made his appear- ance with the haunches of two of the deer, which he said was as much as they well could carry, and they all set off on their return home. Alfred had not proceeded far when he found him- self in great pain, the walking upon snow-shoes re- quiring so much motion as to open the wounds and make them bleed asain ; but Malachi gave him his assistance, and having procured him some more wa- ter, thev continued their route. After a time the wounds became more stiff, and Alfred appeared to be more oppressed by the pain ; they proceeded, however, as fast as they could, and at nightfall were not far from home. But Alfred moved with great difficulty : he had become very faint, so much so, that Martin requested John would throw down the venison, and hasten before them to he house to request Mr. Campbell to send some Tandy or other cordial to support Alfred, who was 72 THE SETTLERS. scarcely able to move on from weakness and loss of blood. As they were not more than a mile from the house, John was soon there, and hastening in at the door, he gave his message in presence of Mrs. Campbell and his cousins, who were in a state of great distress at the intelligence. Mr. Campbell went to his room for the spirits, and as soon as he brought it out, Emma seized her bonnet, and said that she would accompany John. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell had no time to raise any objection if they were inclined, for Emma was out of the door in a moment, with John at her heels. But Emma quite forgot that she had no snow-shoes, and before she had gone half the distance, she found herself as much fatigued as if she had walked miles ; and she sank deeper and deeper in the snow every minute that she advanced. At last they ar- rived, and found the party: Alfred was lying insen- sible on the snow, and the others making a litter of branches, that they might carry him to the house. A little brandy poured down his throat brought Alfred to his senses; and as he opened his eyes, he perceived Emma hanging over him. " Dear Emma, how kind of you," said he, attempt- ing 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." " I must remain now till they are ready to carry you, Alfred, for I dare not go back by myself." By this time the litter was prepared, and Alfred placed on it. Malachi, Henry, Martin, and John, took it up. " Where is Percival ?" said Emma. " He's behind a little way," replied John. " The snow-shoes hurt him, and he could not walk so fast. He will be here in a minute." THE SETTLERS. 73 They carried Alfred to the house where Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and Mary were waiting at the door in great anxiety ; poor Emma was quite knocked up by the time that they arrived, and went into her own room. Alfred was laid on his bed, and his father then ex- amined his wounds, which he considered very dan- gerous, from the great laceration of the flesh. Mr Campbell dressed them, and then they left Alfred to the repose which he so much required. The state of Alfred so occupied their minds and their attention, that nothing and nobody else was thought of for the first hour. Emma too had been taken very ill soon after she came in, and required 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 Percival ?" "Percival! Is he not here ?" was the question anxiously uttered by all the parly who had been hunting. " Percival not here !" exclaimed Mrs. Campbell, starting up. " Where, where is my child ?" "He was just behind us," said John; "he sat down to alter his snow-shoes : the ties hurt him." Malachi and Martin ran out of doors in consterna- tion ; they knew the danger, for the snow was now falling 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 sartain," 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 Mala- chi ; " 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 : Vol II.— 7 74 THE SETTLERS. '* we should never find him, and only lose ourselves ; but still Ave had better go back, and say that we will try. At all events we can go to the edge of the forest, and halloo every minute or so ; if the boy is still on his legs, it will guide him to us." " Yes," replied Malachi, " and we may light a pine torch; it might be of some use. Well, then, let's go in, and tell them that we are going in search of the boy; as long as madam knows Ave are seeking him, she will not lose hope, and hope will keep up her spirits for the time, till she is better prepared for her loss." There wa6 much good sense and knowledge of the human heart in the observation of Malachi, who, although he was aware that all search would be useless, could not resolve to destroy at once all hope in the mind of the afflicted and anxious mother. They went in, and found Mrs. Campbell weeping bitterly, supported by her husband and Mary. They stated that they were going to search for the boy, and bring him home if they could, and, taking three or four pine torches, one of which they lighted, they set off for the edge of the forest, where they remained for two hours with the light, shouting at intervals ; but the snow fell so fast, and the cold was so intense, for the wind blew fresh from the northward, that they could remain no longer. They did not, how- ever, return to the house, but went to their own lodge to recover themselves, and remained there till daylight. They then went out again ; the snow storm 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 now fallen had covered all the tracks which they had made the day before, and was in many places several feet deep. They proceeded to where Percival was last seen by John, who had described the spot very exactly ; they looked every- where about, made circuits round and round, in hopes o( perceiving the muzzle of his rifle peeping THE SETTLERS. 75 out above the snow, but there was nothing to be discovered, and after a search of four or live hours, they returned to the house. They found Mr. Camp- bell and Henry in the kitchen, "for Mrs. Campbell was in such a state of anxiety and distress, that she was in her room attended by Mary. Mr. Campbell perceived by their countenances that they brought no satisfactory tidings. Malachi shook his head mournfully, and sat down. " Do you think that my poor boy is lost, Malachi 1" said Mr. Campbell. " He is, I fear, sir ; he must have sat down to rest himself, and has been overpowered and fallen asleep. He has been buried in the snow, and he will not wake till the day of resurrection." Mr. Campbell covered his face with his hands, and after a time exclaimed, " His poor mother !" After a few minutes, he rose and went into Mrs. Campbell's room. "What of my child, my dear, dear Percival ?" exclaimed Mrs. Campbell. " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away," replied Mr. Campbell ; " your child is happy." Mrs. Campbell wept bitterly; and having thus given vent 10 the feelings of nature, she became gradually more calm and resigned ; her habitually devout spirit sought and found relief in the God of all comfort. "8 THE SETTLERS CHAPTER X- Thus 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 im- prudent 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 addi- tion to the loss of one of their children, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were threatened with being deprived of two more; for iheir nieces were regarded as such, and Alfred was in a very precarious state. The wounds had assumed such an angry appearance, that Mr. Campbell was fearful of mortification. This accu- mulated distress had, however, one good effect upon them. The danger of losing Emma and Alfred so occupied their minds and their attention, that they had not time to bewail the loss of Percival ; and even Mrs. Campbell, in her prayers, was enabled to re- sign herself to the Almighty's will in taking away her child, if it would but please him to spare the two others who were afflicted. Long and tedious were the hours, the days, and the weeks, that passed away before either of them could be considered in a state of convalescence ; but her prayers were heard, and as the winter closed, their recovery was no lon- ger doubtful. A melancholy winter it had been to them all, but the joy of once more seeing Emma re- sume her duties, and Alfred supported on cushions, able to be moved into the sitting-room, had a very exhilarating effect upon their spirits. True, there THE SETTLERS. 77 was no longer the mirth and merriment that once reigned, but there was a subdued gratitude to Heaven, which, if it did not make them at once cheerful, at least prevented anything like repining or complaint. Grateful for the mercies vouchsafed to them in hav- ing Alfred and Emma spared to them, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell consoled themselves in reference to Per- cival, with the reflection, that at so early an age, before he had lived to be corrupted by the world, to die was gain — and that their dear boy had become, through Divine grace, an inhabitant of the kingdom of Heaven. By degrees (he family became again cheerful and happy ; the merry laugh of Emma once more enlivened them, Alfred again r-^overed his former health and spirits, and Mrs. Campbell could bear the mention of the name of Percival, and join in the praise of the amiable child. The spring now came on, the snow gradually dis- appeared, and the ice was carried down the rapids, and once more left the blue lake clear ; the cattle were turned out to feed off the grass the year before left on the prairie, all the men were busy in prepar- ing to put in the seed. As soon as the snow was gone, Malachi, Martin, and Alfred, without saying a word to Mrs. Campbell, had gone into the forest, and made every search fur the body of poor Percival, but without success, and it was considered that he had wandered and died on some spot which they could not discover, or that the wolves had dug his remains out of the snow, and devoured them. Not a trace of him could anywhere be discovered ; and the search was, after a few days, discontinued. The return of the spring had another good effect upon the spirits of the party ; for, with the spring came on such a variety of work to be done, that they had not a moment to spare. They had now so many acres for corn, that they had scarcely time to get through all the preparatory work, and fortunate it was that Alfred was so much recovered that he could join in the labor. Malachi, John, and even Mr. Campbell, 7* 78 THE SETTLERS. assisted, and at last the task was completed. Then they had a communication with the fort, and letters from Quebec, Montreal, and England: there were none of any importance from England, but one from Montreal informed Mr. Campbell that, agreeably to contract, the engineer would arrive in the course of the month, with the bateaux containing the machi- nery, and that the water-mill would be erected as soon as possible. There was also a letter from Eng- land, which gave them great pleasure; it was from Captain Sinclair to Alfred, informing him that he had arranged all his business with his guardian, and that he should rejoin his regiment and be at the fort early in the spring, as he should sail in the first vessel which left England. He stated how delighted he should be at his return, and told him to say to Emma that he had not found an English wife, as she had prophesied, but was coming back as heart-whole as he went. Very soon afterward they had a visit from Colonel Forster and some of the officers of the gar- rison. The Colonel offered Mr. Campbell a party of soldiers to assist in raising the mill, and the offer was thankfully accepted. "We were very much alarmed about you last autumn when the woods were on fire, Mr. Camp- bell," said the colonel ; "but I perceive that it has been of great advantage to you. You have now a large quantity of cleared land sown with seed, and if you had possessed sufficient means, might have had much more put in, as I perceive all the land to the northwest is cleared by the fire." "Yes," replied Mr. Campbell; "but my allot- ment, as you know, extends along the beach, and we have sown the seed as far from the beach as the property extends." " Then I should recommend you to write to Que- bec, and apply for another grant on each side of the Stream ; indeed, at the back of and equal to what you now have." THE SETTLERS. 79 "But if I do, I have not the means of working the land." "No, not with your present force, I grant; but there are many emigrants who would be glad of work, and who would settle here upon favorable conditions." "The expense would be very great," said Mr. Campbell. "It would ; but the return would indemnify you. The troops at the fort would take all the flour off your hands if you had ever so much." " I am not inclined at present to speculate much further," replied Mr. Campbell, " but I shall see how this year turns out, and if I find that I am success- ful, I will then decide." " Of course, you will but act prudently. You can send down to your agent at Quebec, and ascertain what would be the probable terms of the men you might require. But there is another way, which is to give them the land to cultivate, and the seed, and to receive from them a certain portion of corn in return, as rent ; that is very safe, and your land will be all gradually brought into cultivation, beside the advantage of having neighbors about you. You might send one of your sons down to Montreal, and arrange all that." " I certainly will write to my agent and institute inquiries," replied Mr. Campbell, " and many thanks to you for the suggestion : I have still a few hun- dreds at the bank to dispose of, if necessary." About three weeks after this conversation, the ba- teaux arrived with the engineer and machinery for the flour and saw mills ; and now the settlement again presented a lively scene, being thronged with the soldiers who were sent from the fort. The engi- neer was a very pleasant intelligent young English- man, who had taken up his profession in Canada, and was considered one of the most able in the col- ony. The site of the mill was soon chosen, and now the axes igain resounded through the woods, as the 80 THE SETTLERS. trees were felled and squared under his directions Alfred was constantly with the engineer, superin- tending the labor of the men, and contracted a great intimacy with him ; indeed, that gentleman was soon on such a footing with the whole family, as to be considered almost as one of them, for he was very arousing, very well bred, and had evidently received every advantage of education. Mr. Campbell found that Mr. Emmerson, for such was his name, could give him every particular relative to the emigrants who had come out, as he was so constantly travel- ling about the country, and was in such constant communication with them. " You are very fortunate in your purchase," said he to Mr. Campbell, " the land is excellent, and you have a good water power in the stream, as well as convenient carriage by the lake. Fifiy years hence this property will be worth a large sum of money." "I want very much to get some more emigrants to settle here," observed Mr. Campbell. " It would add to our security and comfort ; and I have not suf- ficient hands to cultivate the land which has been cleared by the fire of last autumn. If not cultivated in a short time, it will be all forest again." " At present it is all raspberries, and very good ones too, are they not, Mr. Emmerson?" said Emma. " 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 was not aware of it." " Such is the case, nevertheless. After the rasp- berries, the seedling hardwood trees spring up, and as Mr. Campbell says, they soon grow into a forest again." " I do not think that you would have much trouble in getting emigrants to come here, Mr. Campbell, but the difficulty will be in persuading them to remain. Their object in coming out to this country is to obtain land of their own, and become independent. Many THE SETTLERS. 81 of them have not the means to go on, and, as a tem- porary resource, are compelled to act as laborers ; but the moment that they get sufficient to purchase for themselves, they will leave you." "That is very natural; but I have been thinking of obtaining a larger grant than I have now, and I wish very much that I could make an arrangement with some emigrants. The colonel says that I might dose by supplying them with seed, and taking corn in return as rent." " That would not be a permanent arrangement," replied Mr. Emmerson. " How much land do you p/opose applying for ?" " Six hundred acres." " Well, sir, I think it would meet the views of both parties if you were to offer terms like the fol- lowing — that is, divide the land into lots of one hun- dred acres each, and allow them to cultivate for you the fifty acres that adjoin your own land, with the right of purchasing the other fifty as their own prop- erty, as soon as they can. You will then obtain three hundred acres of the most valuable land, in addition to your present farm, and have fixed neigh- bors around you, even after they are enabled to pur- chase the other fifty." "I think that a very good arrangement, Mr. Em- merson, 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 find any parties who seem likely to prove advantageous as neighbors, I will let you know." " And with such expectations I will apply for the additional grant," said Mr. Campbell, " for to have neighbors in this solitude, I would almost make them a present of the land." "I suspect that in a few years you will have neighbors enough, without resorting to such an ex- pedient," replied Mr. Emmerson, " but according to your present proposal, they may be better selected, 82 THE SETTLERS. and you may make terms which will prevent any nuisances." The works at the mill proceeded rapidly, and before the hay-harvest the mill was complete. Alfred was very careful, and paid 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. He explained everything to Alfred, and put the mill to work, that he might be fully master of it. As it was a fortnight after the mill was at work before Mr. Emmerson 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. Captan 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 was re- ceived most warmly. 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 and Mary were delighted to have him again as a companion and to resume their walks with him ; a fortnight thus passed away very quickly, when his leave of absence expired, and he was obliged to return to the fort. Previous, however, to his going away, he requested a private interview with Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, in which he slated his exact position and his means, and requested their sanction to his paying his addresses to Mary. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, who had already perceived the attentions he had shown to her, did not hesitate to express their satisfaction at his request, and their best wishes for his success ; and having so done, they left him to forward his own suit, which Captain Sinclair did not fail to do that very evening. Mary Percival was too amiable and right-minded a girl THE SETTLERS. 83 not at once to refuse or accept Captain Sinclair. As she had long been attached to him, she did not deny that such was the case, and Captain Sinclair was overjoyed at his success. "I have spoken frankly to you, Captain Sinclair," jaid Mary; "I have not denied that you have an interest in my affections ; but I must now request you to let me know what are your future views." "To do just what you wish me to do." •'I have no right to advise, and no wish to per- suade. I have my own path of duty pointed out to