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The Young Fur Traders Page 9


  CHAPTER NINE.

  THE VOYAGE--THE ENCAMPMENT--A SURPRISE.

  It was a fine sight to see the boats depart for the north. It was athrilling, heart-stirring sight to behold these picturesque, athleticmen, on receiving the word of command from their guides, spring lightlyinto the long, heavy boats; to see them let the oars fall into the waterwith a loud splash, and then, taking their seats, give way with a will,knowing that the eyes of friends and sweethearts and rivals were bentearnestly upon them. It was a splendid sight to see boat after boatshoot out from the landing-place, and cut through the calm bosom of theriver, as the men bent their sturdy backs, until the thick oars creakedand groaned on the gunwales and flashed in the stream, more and morevigorously at each successive stroke, until their friends on the bank,who were anxious to see the last of them, had to run faster and fasterin order to keep up with them, as the rowers warmed at their work, andmade the water gurgle at the bows--their bright blue and scarlet andwhite trappings reflected in the dark waters in broken masses of colour,streaked with long lines of shining ripples, as if they floated on alake of liquid rainbows. And it was a glorious thing to hear the wild,plaintive song, led by one clear, sonorous voice, that rang out full andstrong in the still air, while at the close of every two lines the wholebrigade burst into a loud, enthusiastic chorus, that rolled far and wideover the smooth waters--telling of their approach to settlers beyond thereach of vision in advance, and floating faintly back, a last farewell,to the listening ears of fathers, mothers, wives, and sisters leftbehind. And it was interesting to observe how, as the rushing boatssped onwards past the cottages on shore, groups of men and women andchildren stood before the open doors and waved adieu, while ever andanon a solitary voice rang louder than the others in the chorus, and apair of dark eyes grew brighter as a voyageur swept past his home, andrecognised his little ones screaming farewell, and seeking to attracttheir _sire's_ attention by tossing their chubby arms or flourishinground their heads the bright vermilion blades of canoe paddles. It wasinteresting, too, to hear the men shout as they ran a small rapid whichoccurs about the lower part of the settlement, and dashed in full careerup to the Lower Fort--which stands about twenty miles down the riverfrom Fort Garry--and then sped onward again with unabated energy, untilthey passed the Indian settlement, with its scattered wooden buildingsand its small church; passed the last cottage on the bank; passed thelow swampy land at the river's mouth; and emerged at last, as eveningclosed, upon the wide, calm, sea-like bosom of Lake Winnipeg.

  Charley saw and heard all this during the whole of that long, excitingafternoon, and as he heard and saw it his heart swelled as if it wouldburst its prison-bars, his voice rang out wildly in the choruses,regardless alike of tune and time, and his spirit boiled within him ashe quaffed the first sweet draught of a rover's life--a life in thewoods, the wild, free, enchanting woods, where all appeared in _his_eyes bright, and sunny, and green, and beautiful!

  As the sun's last rays sank in the west, and the clouds, losing theircrimson hue, began gradually to fade into grey, the boats' heads wereturned landward. In a few seconds they grounded on a low point coveredwith small trees and bushes which stretched out into the lake. HereLouis Peltier had resolved to bivouac for the night. "Now then, mesgarcons," he exclaimed, leaping ashore, and helping to drag the boat alittle way on to the beach, "vite, vite! a terre, a terre!--Take thekettle, Pierre, and let's have supper."

  Pierre needed no second bidding. He grasped a large tin kettle and anaxe, with which he hurried into a clump of trees. Laying down thekettle, which he had previously filled with water from the lake, hesingled out a dead tree, and with three powerful blows of his axebrought it to the ground. A few additional strokes cut it up into logs,varying from three to five feet in length, which he piled together,first placing a small bundle of dry grass and twigs beneath them, and afew splinters of wood which he cut from off one of the logs. Havingaccomplished this, Pierre took a flint and steel out of a gailyornamented pouch which depended from his waist, and which went by thename of a fire-bag in consequence of its containing the implements forprocuring that element. It might have been as appropriately namedtobacco-bag or smoking-bag, however, seeing that such things had more todo with it, if possible, than fire. Having struck a spark, which hetook captive by means of a piece of tinder, he placed it in the centreof a very dry handful of soft grass, and whirled it rapidly round hishead, thereby producing a current of air, which blew the spark into aflame; which, when applied, lighted the grass and twigs; and so, in afew minutes, a blazing fire roared up among the trees--spouted volumesof sparks into the air, like a gigantic squib, which made it quite amarvel that all the bushes in the neighbourhood were not burnt up atonce--glared out red and fierce upon the rippling water, until itbecame, as it were, red hot in the neighbourhood of the boats, andcaused the night to become suddenly darker by contrast; the nightreciprocating the compliment, as it grew later, by causing the spacearound the fire to glow brighter and brighter, until it became abrilliant chamber, surrounded by walls of the blackest ebony.

  While Pierre was thus engaged there were at least ten voyageurssimilarly occupied. Ten steels were made instrumental in creating tensparks, which were severally captured by ten pieces of tinder, andwhirled round by ten lusty arms, until ten flames were produced, and tenfires sprang up and flared wildly on the busy scene that had a few hoursbefore been so calm, so solitary, and so peaceful, bathed in the softbeams of the setting sun.

  In less than half an hour the several camps were completed, the kettlesboiling over the fires, the men smoking in every variety of attitude,and talking loudly. It was a cheerful scene; and so Charley thought ashe reclined in his canvas tent, the opening of which faced the fire, andenabled him to see all that was going on.

  Pierre was standing over the great kettle, dancing round it, and makingsudden plunges with a stick into it, in the desperate effort to stir itsboiling contents--desperate, because the fire was very fierce and large,and the flames seemed to take a fiendish pleasure in leaping up suddenlyjust under Pierre's nose, thereby endangering his beard, or shooting outbetween his legs and licking round them at most unexpected moments, whenthe light wind ought to have been blowing them quite in the oppositedirection; and then, as he danced round to the other side to avoid them,wheeling about and roaring viciously in his face, until it seemed as ifthe poor man would be roasted long before the supper was boiled.Indeed, what between the ever-changing and violent flames, the rollingsmoke, the steam from the kettle, the showering sparks, and the man'sown wild grimaces and violent antics, Pierre seemed to Charley like araging demon, who danced not only round, but above, and on, and through,and _in_ the flames, as if they were his natural element, in which hetook special delight.

  Quite close to the tent the massive form of Louis the guide layextended, his back supported by the stump of a tree, his eyes blinkingsleepily at the blaze, and his beloved pipe hanging from his lips, whilewreaths of smoke encircled his head. Louis's day's work was done. Fewcould do a better; and when his work was over, Louis always acted on thebelief that his position and his years entitled him to rest, and tookthings very easy in consequence.

  Six of the boat's crew sat in a semicircle beside the guide and frontingthe fire, each paying particular attention to his pipe, and talkingbetween the puffs to any one who chose to listen.

  Suddenly Pierre vanished into the smoke and flames altogether, whence inanother moment he issued, bearing in his hand the large tin kettle,which he deposited triumphantly at the feet of his comrades.

  "Now, then," cried Pierre.

  It was unnecessary to have said even that much by way of invitation.Voyageurs do not require to have their food pressed upon them after ahard day's work. Indeed, it was as much as they could do to refrainfrom laying violent hands on the kettle long before their worthy cookconsidered its contents sufficiently done.

  Charley sat in company with Mr Park--a chief factor, on his way toNorway House. Gibault, one of the men who ac
ted as their servant, hadplaced a kettle of hot tea before them, which, with several slices ofbuffalo tongue, a lump of pemmican, and some hard biscuit and butter,formed their evening meal. Indeed, we may add that these viands, duringa great part of the voyage, constituted their every meal. In fact, theyhad no variety in their fare, except a wild duck or two now and then,and a goose when they chanced to shoot one.

  Charley sipped a pannikin of tea as he reclined on his blanket, andbeing somewhat fatigued in consequence of his exertions and excitementduring the day, said nothing. Mr Park for the same reasons, besidesbeing naturally taciturn, was equally mute; so they both enjoyed insilence the spectacle of the men eating their supper. And it _was_ asight worth seeing.

  Their food consisted of robbiboo, a compound of flour, pemmican, andwater, boiled to the consistency of very thick soup. Though not aspecies of food that would satisfy the fastidious taste of an epicure,robbiboo is, nevertheless, very wholesome, exceedingly nutritious, andwithal palatable. Pemmican, its principal component, is made of buffaloflesh, which fully equals (some think greatly excels) beef. The recipefor making it is as follows:--First kill your buffalo--a matter ofconsiderable difficulty, by the way, as doing so requires you to travelto the buffalo-grounds, to arm yourself with a gun, and mount a horse,on which you have to gallop, perhaps, several miles over rough groundand among badger-holes, at the imminent risk of breaking your neck.Then you have to run up alongside of a buffalo and put a ball throughhis heart, which, apart from the murderous nature of the action, is adifficult thing to do. But we will suppose that you have killed yourbuffalo. Then you must skin him; then cut him up, and slice the fleshinto layers, which must be dried in the sun. At this stage of theprocess you have produced a substance which in the fur countries goes bythe name of dried meat, and is largely used as an article of food. Asits name implies, it is very dry, and it is also very tough, and veryundesirable if one can manage to procure anything better. But toproceed. Having thus prepared dried meat, lay a quantity of it on aflat stone, and take another stone, with which pound it into shreds.You must then take the animal's hide, while it is yet new, and make bagsof it about two feet and a half long by a foot and a half broad. Intothis put the pounded meat loosely. Melt the fat of your buffalo over afire, and when quite liquid pour it into the bag until full; mix thecontents well together; sew the whole up before it cools, and you have abag of pemmican of about ninety pounds weight. This forms the chieffood of the voyageur, in consequence of its being the largest possiblequantity of sustenance compressed into the smallest possible space, andin an extremely convenient, portable shape. It will keep fresh foryears, and has been much used, in consequence, by the heroes of arcticdiscovery, in their perilous journeys along the shores of the frozensea.

  The voyageurs used no plates. Men who travel in these countries becomeindependent of many things that are supposed to be necessary here. Theysat in a circle round the kettle, each man armed with a large wooden orpewter spoon, with which he ladled the robbiboo down his capaciousthroat, in a style that not only caused Charley to laugh, but afterwardsthrew him into a deep reverie on the powers of appetite in general, andthe strength of voyageur stomachs in particular.

  At first the keen edge of appetite induced the men to eat in silence;but as the contents of the kettle began to get low, their tonguesloosened, and at last, when the kettles were emptied and the pipesfilled, fresh logs thrown on the fires, and their limbs stretched outaround them, the babel of English, French, and Indian that arose wasquite overwhelming. The middle-aged men told long stories of what they_had_ done; the young men boasted of what they _meant_ to do; while themore aged smiled, nodded, smoked their pipes, put in a word or two asoccasion offered, and listened. While they conversed the quick ears ofone of the men of Charley's camp detected some unusual sound.

  "Hist!" said he, turning his head aside slightly, in a listeningattitude, while his comrades suddenly ceased their noisy laugh.

  "Do ducks travel in canoes hereabouts?" said the man, after a moment'ssilence; "for, if not, there's some one about to pay us a visit. Iwould wager my best gun that I hear the stroke of paddles."

  "If your ears had been sharper, Francois, you might have heard them sometime ago," said the guide, shaking the ashes out of his pipe andrefilling it for the third time.

  "Ah, Louis, I do not pretend to such sharp ears as you possess, nor tosuch sharp wit either. But who do you think can be _en route_ so late?"

  "That my wit does not enable me to divine," said Louis; "but if you haveany faith in the sharpness of your eyes, I would recommend you to go tothe beach and see, as the best and shortest way of finding out."

  By this time the men had risen, and were peering out into the gloom inthe direction whence the sound came, while one or two sauntered down tothe margin of the lake to meet the newcomers.

  "Who can it be, I wonder?" said Charley, who had left the tent, and wasnow standing beside the guide.

  "Difficult to say, monsieur. Perhaps Injins, though I thought therewere none here just now. But I'm not surprised that we've attracted_something_ to us. Livin' creeturs always come nat'rally to the light,and there's plenty fire on the point to-night."

  "Rather more than enough," replied Charley, abruptly, as a slight motionof wind sent the flames curling round his head and singed off hiseyelashes. "Why, Louis, it's my firm belief that if I ever get to theend of this journey, I'll not have a hair left on my head."

  Louis smiled.

  "O monsieur, you will learn to _observe_ things before you have beenlong in the wilderness. If you _will_ edge round to leeward of thefire, you can't expect it to respect you."

  Just at this moment a loud hurrah rang through the copse, and HarrySomerville sprang over the fire into the arms of Charley, who receivedhim with a hug and a look of unutterable amazement.

  "Charley, my boy!"

  "Harry Somerville, I declare!"

  For at least five minutes Charley could not recover his composuresufficiently to _declare_ anything else, but stood with open mouth andeyes, and elevated eyebrows, looking at his young friend, who caperedand danced round the fire in a manner that threw the cook's performancesin that line quite into the shade, while he continued all the time toshout fragments of sentences that were quite unintelligible to any one.It was evident that Harry was in a state of immense delight at somethingunknown save to himself, but which, in the course of a few minutes, wasrevealed to his wondering friends.

  "Charley, I'm _going_! hurrah!" and he leaped about in a manner thatinduced Charley to say he would not only be going, but very soon _gone_,if he did not keep further away from the fire.

  "Yes, Charley, I'm going with you! I upset the stool, tilted theink-bottle over the invoice-book, sent the poker almost through the backof the fireplace, and smashed Tom Whyte's best whip on the back of the`noo 'oss,' as I galloped him over the plains for the last time--all forjoy, because I'm going with you, Charley, my darling!"

  Here Harry suddenly threw his arms round his friend's neck, meditatingan embrace. As both boys were rather fond of using their musclesviolently, the embrace degenerated into a wrestle, which caused them tothreaten complete destruction to the fire as they staggered in front ofit, and ended in their tumbling against the tent, and nearly breakingits poles and fastenings, to the horror and indignation of Mr Park, whowas smoking his pipe within, quietly waiting till Harry's superabundantglee was over, that he might get an explanation of his unexpectedarrival among them.

  "Ah, they will be good voyageurs!" cried one of the men, as he looked onat this scene.

  "Oui, oui! good boys, active lads," replied the others, laughing. Thetwo boys rose hastily.

  "Yes," cried Harry, breathless, but still excited, "I'm going all theway, and a great deal farther. I'm going to hunt buffaloes in theSaskatchewan, and grizzly bears in the--the--in fact everywhere! I'mgoing down the Mackenzie River--I'm going _mad_, I believe;" and Harrygave another caper and another shout, and tossed his cap high into theair.
Having been recklessly tossed, it came down into the fire. Whenit went in, it was dark blue; but when Harry dashed into the flames inconsternation to save it, it came out of a rich brown colour.

  "Now, youngster," said Mr Park, "when you've done capering I shouldlike to ask you one or two questions. What brought you here?"

  "A canoe," said Harry, inclined to be impudent.

  "Oh! and pray for what _purpose_ have you come here?"

  "These are my credentials," handing him a letter.

  Mr Park opened the note and read.

  "Ah! oh! Saskatchewan--hum--yes--outpost--wild boy--just so--keep himat it--ay, fit for nothing else. So," said Mr Park, folding the paper,"I find that Mr Grant has sent you to take the place of a younggentleman we expected to pick up at Norway House, but who is requiredelsewhere; and that he wishes you to see a good deal of rough life--tobe made a trader of, in fact. Is that your desire?"

  "That's the very ticket!" replied Harry, scarcely able to restrain hisdelight at the prospect.

  "Well, then, you had better get supper and turn in, for you'll have tobegin your new life by rising at three o'clock to-morrow morning. Haveyou got a tent?"

  "Yes," said Harry, pointing to his canoe, which had been brought to thefire and turned bottom up by the two Indians to whom it belonged, andwho were reclining under its shelter enjoying their pipes, and watchingwith looks of great gravity the doings of Harry and his friend.

  "_That_ will return whence it came to-morrow. Have you no other?"

  "Oh yes," said Harry, pointing to the overhanging branches of a willowclose at hand, "lots more."

  Mr Park smiled grimly, and turning on his heel re-entered the tent andcontinued his pipe, while Harry flung himself down beside Charley underthe bark canoe.

  This species of "tent" is, however, by no means a perfect one. AnIndian canoe is seldom three feet broad--frequently much narrower--sothat it only affords shelter for the body as far down as the waist,leaving the extremities exposed. True, one _may_ double up as nearly aspossible into half one's length, but this is not a desirable position tomaintain throughout an entire night. Sometimes, when the weather is_very_ bad, an additional protection is procured by leaning severalpoles against the bottom of the canoe, on the weather side, in such away as to slope considerably over the front; and over these are spreadpieces of birch bark or branches and moss, so as to form a screen, whichis an admirable shelter. But this involves too much time and labour tobe adopted during a voyage, and is only done when the travellers areunder the necessity of remaining for some time in one place.

  The canoe in which Harry arrived was a pretty large one, and looked socomfortable when arranged for the night that Charley resolved to abandonhis own tent and Mr Park's society, and sleep with his friend.

  "I'll sleep with you, Harry, my boy," said he, after Harry had explainedto him in detail the cause of his being sent away from Red River; whichwas no other than that a young gentleman, as Mr Park said, who _was_ tohave gone, had been ordered elsewhere.

  "That's right, Charley; spread out our blankets, while I get somesupper, like a good fellow." Harry went in search of the kettle whilehis friend prepared their bed. First, he examined the ground on whichthe canoe lay, and found that the two Indians had already takenpossession of the only level places under it. "Humph!" he ejaculated,half inclined to rouse them up, but immediately dismissed the idea asunworthy of a voyageur. Besides, Charley was an amiable, unselfishfellow, and would rather have lain on the top of a dozen stumps thanhave made himself comfortable at the expense of any one else.

  He paused a moment to consider. On one side was a hollow "that" (as hesoliloquised to himself) "would break the back of a buffalo." On theother side were a dozen little stumps surrounding three very prominentones, that threatened destruction to the ribs of any one who shouldventure to lie there. But Charley did not pause to consider long.Seizing his axe, he laid about him vigorously with the head of it, andin a few seconds destroyed all the stumps, which he carefully collected,and, along with some loose moss and twigs, put into the hollow, and sofilled it up. Having improved things thus far, he rose and strode outof the circle of light into the wood. In a few minutes he reappeared,bearing a young spruce fir tree on his shoulder, which with the axe hestripped of its branches. These branches were flat in form, andelastic--admirably adapted for making a bed on; and when Charley spreadthem out under the canoe in a pile of about four inches in depth by fourfeet broad and six feet long, the stumps and the hollow were overwhelmedaltogether. He then ran to Mr Park's tent, and fetched thence a smallflat bundle covered with oilcloth and tied with a rope. Opening this,he tossed out its contents, which were two large and very thickblankets--one green, the other white; a particularly minute featherpillow, a pair of moccasins, a broken comb, and a bit of soap. Then heopened a similar bundle containing Harry's bed, which he likewise tossedout; and then kneeling down, he spread the two white blankets on the topof the branches, the two green blankets above these, and the two pillowsat the top, as far under the shelter of the canoe as he could push them.Having completed the whole in a manner that would have done credit to achambermaid, he continued to sit on his knees, with his hands in hispockets, smiling complacently, and saying, "Capital--first-rate!"

  "Here we are, Charley. Have a second supper--do!"

  Harry placed the smoking kettle by the head of the bed, and squattingdown beside it, began to eat as only a boy _can_ eat who has had nothingsince breakfast.

  Charley attacked the kettle too--as he said, "out of sympathy," althoughhe "wasn't hungry a bit." And really, for a man who was not hungry, andhad supped half an hour before, the appetite of _sympathy_ waswonderfully strong.

  But Harry's powers of endurance were now exhausted. He had spent a longday of excessive fatigue and excitement, and having wound it up with aheavy supper, sleep began to assail him with a fell ferocity thatnothing could resist. He yawned once or twice, and sat on the bedblinking unmeaningly at the fire, as if he had something to say to itwhich he could not recollect just then. He nodded violently, much tohis own surprise, once or twice, and began to address remarks to thekettle instead of to his friend. "I say, Charley, this won't do. I'moff to bed!" and suiting the action to the word, he took off his coatand placed it on his pillow. He then removed his moccasins, which werewet, and put on a dry pair; and this being all that is ever done in theway of preparation before going to bed in the woods, he lay down andpulled the green blankets over him.

  Before doing so, however, Harry leaned his head on his hands and prayed.This was the one link left of the chain of habit with which he had lefthome. Until the period of his departure for the wild scenes of theNorth-west, Harry had lived in a quiet, happy home in the West Highlandsof Scotland, where he had been surrounded by the benign influences of afamily the members of which were united by the sweet bonds of Christianlove--bonds which were strengthened by the additional tie of amiabilityof disposition. From childhood he had been accustomed to the routine ofa pious and well-regulated household, where the Bible was perused andspoken of with an interest that indicated a genuine hungering andthirsting after righteousness, and where the name of JESUS sounded oftenand sweetly on the ear. Under such training Harry, though naturally ofa wild, volatile disposition, was deeply and irresistibly impressed witha reverence for sacred things, which, now that he was thousands of milesaway from his peaceful home, clung to him with the force of old habitand association, despite the jeers of comrades and the evil influencesand ungodliness by which he was surrounded. It is true that he was notaltogether unhurt by the withering indifference to God that he beheld onall sides. Deep impression is not renewal of heart. But early trainingin the path of Christian love saved him many a deadly fall. It guardedhim from many of the grosser sins into which other boys, who had merelybroken away from the _restraints_ of home, too easily fell. It twinedround him--as the ivy encircles the oak--with a soft, tender, butpowerful grasp, that held him back when he was tempted to dash aside allr
estraint; and held him up when, in the weakness of his human nature, hewas about to fall. It exerted its benign sway over him in the silenceof night, when his thoughts reverted to home, and during his wakinghours, when he wandered from scene to scene in the wide wilderness; andin after years, when sin prevailed, and intercourse with rough men hadworn off much of at least the superficial amiability of his character,and to some extent blunted the finer feelings of his nature, it clungfaintly to him still, in the memory of his mother's gentle look andtender voice, and never forsook him altogether. Home had a blessed andpowerful influence on Harry. May God bless such homes, where the rulingpower is _love_! God bless and multiply such homes in the earth! Werethere more of them there would be fewer heart-broken mothers to weepover the memory of the blooming, manly boys they sent away to foreignclimes--with trembling hearts but high hopes--and never saw them more.They were vessels launched upon the troubled sea of time, with stouttimbers, firm masts, and gallant sails--with all that was necessaryabove and below, from stem to stern, for battling with the billows ofadverse fortune, for stemming the tide of opposition, for riding thestorms of persecution, or bounding with a press of canvas before thegales of prosperity; but without the rudder--without the guidingprinciple that renders the great power of plank and sail and mastavailable; _with_ which the vessel moves obedient to the owner's will,_without_ which it drifts about with every current, and sails along withevery shifting wind that blows. Yes, may the best blessings ofprosperity and peace rest on such families, whose bread, castcontinually on the waters, returns to them after many days.

  After Harry had lain down, Charley, who did not feel inclined forrepose, sauntered to the margin of the lake, and sat down upon a rock.

  It was a beautiful calm evening. The moon shone faintly through a massof heavy clouds, casting a pale light on the waters of Lake Winnipeg,which stretched, without a ripple, out to the distant horizon. Thegreat fresh-water lakes of America bear a strong resemblance to the sea.In storms the waves rise mountains high, and break with heavy, sullenroar upon a beach composed in many places of sand and pebbles; whilethey are so large that one not only looks out to a straight horizon, butmay even sail _out of sight of land_ altogether.

  As Charley sat resting his head on his hand, and listening to the softhiss that the ripples made upon the beach, he felt all the solemnisinginfluence that steals irresistibly over the mind as we sit on a stillnight gazing out upon the moonlit sea. His thoughts were sad; for hethought of Kate, and his mother and father, and the home he was nowleaving. He remembered all that he had ever done to injure or annoy thedear ones he was leaving; and it is strange how much alive ourconsciences become when we are unexpectedly or suddenly removed fromthose with whom we have lived and held daily intercourse. How bitterlywe reproach ourselves for harsh words, unkind actions; and how intenselywe long for one word more with them, one fervent embrace, to prove atonce that all we have ever said or done was not _meant_ ill, and, at anyrate, is deeply, sincerely repented of now! As Charley looked up intothe starry sky, his mind recurred to the parting words of Mr Addison.With uplifted hands and a full heart, he prayed that God would bless,for Jesus' sake, the beloved ones in Red River, but especially Kate; forwhether he prayed or meditated, Charley's thoughts _always_ ended withKate.

  A black cloud passed across the moon, and reminded him that but a fewhours of the night remained; so hastening up to the camp again, he laygently down beside his friend, and drew the green blanket over him.

  In the camp all was silent. The men had chosen their several bedsaccording to fancy, under the shadow of a bush or tree. The fires hadburned low--so low that it was with difficulty Charley, as he lay, coulddiscern the recumbent forms of the men, whose presence was indicated bythe deep, soft, regular breathing of tired but healthy constitutions.Sometimes a stray moonbeam shot through the leaves and branches, andcast a ghostlike flickering light over the scene, which ever and anonwas rendered more mysterious by a red flare of the fire as an emberfell, blazed up for an instant, and left all shrouded in greaterdarkness than before.

  At first Charley continued his sad thoughts, staring all the while atthe red embers of the expiring fire; but soon his eyes began to blink,and the stumps of trees began to assume the form of voyageurs, andvoyageurs to look like stumps of trees. Then a moonbeam darted in, andMr Addison stood on the other side of the fire. At this sight Charleystarted, and Mr Addison disappeared, while the boy smiled to think howhe had been dreaming while only half asleep. Then Kate appeared, andseemed to smile on him; but another ember fell, and another red flamesprang up, and put her to flight too. Then a low sigh of wind rustledthrough the branches, and Charley felt sure that he saw Kate againcoming through the woods, singing the low, soft tune that she was sofond of singing, because it was his own favourite air. But soon the airceased; the fire faded away; so did the trees, and the sleepingvoyageurs; Kate last of all dissolved, and Charley sank into a deep,untroubled slumber.