"As to the eggs," said Louis, "we can eat them raw; it is not for hungry wanderers like us to be over nice about our food."

"They would satisfy us much better were they boiled, or roasted in the ashes," observed Hector.

"True. Well, a fire, I think, can be got with a little trouble."

"But how?" asked Hector. "Oh, there are many ways, but the readiest would be a flint with the help of my knife."

"A flint?"

"Yes, if we could get one--but I see nothing but granite, which crumbles and shivers when struck--we could not get a spark. However, I think it's very likely that one of the round pebbles I see on the beach yonder may be found hard enough for the purpose."

To the sh.o.r.e they bent their steps as soon as the little basket had been well filled with strawberries, and descending the precipitous bank, fringed with young saplings, birch, ash, and poplars, they quickly found themselves beside the bright waters of the lake. A flint was soon found among the water-worn stones that lay thickly strewn upon the sh.o.r.e, and a handful of dry sedge, almost as inflammable as tinder, was collected without trouble; though Louis, with the recklessness of his nature, had coolly proposed to tear a strip from his cousin's ap.r.o.n as a subst.i.tute for tinder,--a proposal that somewhat raised the indignation of the tidy Catharine, whose ideas of economy and neatness were greatly outraged, especially as she had no sewing implements to a.s.sist in mending the rent. Louis thought nothing of that; it was a part of his character to think only of the present, little of the past, and to let the future provide for itself. Such was Louis's great failing, which had proved a fruitful source of trouble both to himself and others. In this respect he bore a striking contrast to his more cautious companion, who possessed much of the gravity of his father. Hector was as heedful and steady in his decisions as Louis was rash and impetuous.

After many futile attempts, and some skin knocked off their knuckles through awkward handling of the knife and flint, a good fire was at last kindled, as there was no lack of dry wood on the sh.o.r.e; Catharine then triumphantly produced her tin pot, and the eggs were boiled, greatly to the satisfaction of all parties, who were by this time sufficiently hungry, having eaten nothing since the previous evening more substantial than the strawberries they had taken during the time they were gathering them in the morning.

Catharine had selected a pretty, cool, shady recess, a natural bower, under the overhanging growth of cedars, poplars, and birch, which were wreathed together by the flexile branches of the vine and bitter-sweet, which climbed to a height of fifteen feet _[FN: Solatnum dulcamara,--Bitter-sweet or Woody nightshade. This plant, like the red-berried briony of England, is highly ornamental. It possesses powerful properties as a medicine, and is in high reputation among the Indians.]_ among the branches _[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FIRST BREAKFAST]_ of the trees, which it covered as with a mantle. A pure spring of cold, delicious water welled out from beneath the twisted roots of an old h.o.a.ry-barked cedar, and found its way among the shingles on the beach to the lake, a humble but constant tributary to its waters. Some large blocks of water-worn stone formed convenient seats and a natural table, on which the little maiden arranged the forest fare; and never was a meal made with greater appet.i.te or taken with more thankfulness than that which our wanderers ate that morning. The eggs (part of which they reserved for another time) were declared to be better than those that were daily produced from the little hen-house at Cold Springs. The strawberries, set out in little pottles made with the shining leaves of the oak, ingeniously pinned together by Catharine with the long spurs of the hawthorn, _[FN: The long-spurred American hawthorn may be observed by our young readers among that beautiful collection of the hawthorn family and its affinities, which flourish on the north side of Kensington Gardens.]_ were voted delicious, and the pure water most refreshing, that they drank, for lack of better cups, from a large mussel-sh.e.l.l which Catharine had picked up among the weeds and pebbles on the beach.

Many children would have wandered about weeping and disconsolate, lamenting their sad fate, or have embittered the time by useless repining, or, perhaps, by venting their uneasiness in reviling the princ.i.p.al author of their calamity--poor, thoughtless Louis; but such were not the dispositions of our young Canadians. Early accustomed to the hardships incidental to the lives of the settlers in the bush, these young people had learned to bear with patience and cheerfulness privations that would have crushed the spirits of children more delicately nurtured. They had known every degree of hunger and nakedness; during the first few years of their lives they had often been compelled to subsist for days and weeks upon roots and herbs, wild fruits, and game which their fathers had learned to entrap, to decoy, and to shoot. Thus Louis and Hector had early been initiated into the mysteries of the chase. They could make deadfalls, and pits, and traps, and snares,--they were as expert as Indians in the use of the bow,--they could pitch a stone, or fling a wooden dart at partridge, hare, and squirrel, with almost unerring aim; and were as swift of foot as young fawns. Now it was that they learned to value in its fullest extent this useful and practical knowledge, which enabled them to face with fort.i.tude the privations of a life so precarious as that to which they were now exposed.

It was one of the elder Maxwell's maxims,--Never let difficulties overcome you, but rather strive to conquer them; let the head direct the hand, and the hand, like a well-disciplined soldier, obey the head as chief. When his children expressed any doubts of not being able to accomplish any work they had begun, he would say, "Have you not hands, have you not a head, have you not eyes to see, and reason to guide you? As for impossibilities, they do not belong to the trade of a soldier,--he dare not see them." Thus were energy and perseverance early instilled into the minds of his children; they were now called upon to give practical proofs of the precepts that had been taught them in childhood. Hector trusted to his axe, and Louis to his _couteau-de-cha.s.se_ and pocket-knife; the latter was a present from an old forest friend of his father's, who had visited them the previous winter, and which, by good luck, Louis had in his pocket--a capacious pouch, in which were stored many precious things, such as coils of twine and string, strips of leather, with odds and ends of various kinds; nails, bits of iron, leather, and such miscellaneous articles as find their way most mysteriously into boys' pockets in general, and Louis Perron's in particular, who was a wonderful collector of such small matters.

The children were not easily daunted by the prospect of pa.s.sing a few days abroad on so charming a spot, and at such a lovely season, where fruits were so abundant; and when they had finished their morning meal, so providentially placed within their reach, they gratefully acknowledged the mercy of G.o.d in this thing.

Having refreshed themselves by bathing their hands and faces in the lake, they cheerfully renewed their wanderings, though something both to leave the cool shade and the spring for an untrodden path among the hills and deep ravines that furrow the sh.o.r.es of the Rice Lake in so remarkable a manner; and often did our weary wanderers pause to look upon the wild glens and precipitous hills, where the fawn and the shy deer found safe retreats, unharmed by the rifle of the hunter,--where the osprey and white-headed eagle built their nests, unheeding and unharmed. Twice that day, misled by following the track of the deer, had they returned to the same spot,--a deep and lovely glen, which had once been a water-course, but now a green and shady valley. This they named the Valley of the Rock, from a remarkable block of red granite that occupied a central position in the narrow defile; and here they prepared to pa.s.s the second night on the Plains. A few boughs cut down and interlaced with the shrubs round a small s.p.a.ce cleared with Hector's axe, formed shelter, and leaves and gra.s.s, strewed on the ground, formed a bed, though not so smooth, perhaps, as the bark and cedar-boughs that the Indians spread within their summer wigwams for carpets and couches, or the fresh heather that the Highlanders gather on the wild Scottish hills.

While Hector and Louis were preparing the sleeping-chamber, Catharine busied herself in preparing the partridge for their supper. Having collected some thin peelings from the ragged bark of a birch-tree, that grew on the side of the steep bank to which she gave the appropriate name of the "Birken shaw," she dried it in her bosom, and then beat it fine upon a big stone, till it resembled the finest white paper. This proved excellent tinder, the aromatic oil contained in the bark of the birch being highly inflammable, Hector had prudently retained the flint that they had used in the morning, and a fire was now lighted in front of the rocky stone, and a forked stick, stuck in the ground, and bent over the coals, served as a spit, on which, gipsy-fashion, the partridge was suspended,--a scanty meal, but thankfully partaken of, though they knew not how they should breakfast next morning, The children felt they were pensioners on G.o.d's providence not less than the wild denizens of the wilderness around them.

When Hector--who by nature was less sanguine than his sister or cousin--expressed some anxiety for their provisions for the morrow, Catharine, who had early listened with trusting piety of heart to the teaching of her father, when he read portions from the holy word of G.o.d, gently laid her hand upon her brother's head, which rested on her knees, as he sat upon the gra.s.s beside her, and said, in a low and earnest tone, "'Consider the fowls of the air; they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?' Surely, my brother, G.o.d careth for us as much as for the wild creatures, that have no sense to praise and glorify his holy name. G.o.d cares for the creatures He has made, and supplies them with knowledge where they shall find food when they hunger and thirst. So I have heard my father say; and surely our father knows, for is he not a wise man, Hector?"

"I remember," said Louis, thoughtfully, "hearing my mother repeat the words of a good old man she knew when she lived in Quebec;--'When you are in trouble, Mathilde,' he used to say to her, 'kneel down, and ask G.o.d's help, nothing doubting but that He has the power as well as the will to serve you, if it be for your good; for He is able to bring all things to pa.s.s. It is our own want of faith that prevents our prayers from being heard. And, truly, I think the wise old man was right," he added.

It was strange to hear grave words like these from the lips of the giddy Louis. Possibly they had the greater weight on that account. And Hector, looking up with a serious air, replied, "Your mother's friend was a good man, Louis. Our want of trust in G.o.d's power must displease Him. And when we think of all the great and glorious things He has made,--that blue sky, those sparkling stars, the beautiful moon that is now shining down upon us, and the hills and waters, the mighty forest, and little creeping plants and flowers that grow at our feet,--it must, indeed, seem foolish in his eyes that we should doubt his power to help us, who not only made all these things, but ourselves also."

"True," said Catharine; "but then, Hector, we are not as G.o.d made us; for the wicked one cast bad seed in the field where G.o.d had sown the good."

"Let us, however, consider what we shall do for food; for, you know, G.o.d helps those that help themselves," said Louis. "Let us consider a little. There must be plenty of fish in the lake, both small and great."

"But how are we to get them out of it?" rejoined Catharine. "I doubt the fish will swim at their ease there, while we go hungry."

"Do not interrupt me, ma chere. Then, we see the track of deer, and the holes of the wood-chuck; we hear the cry of squirrels and chipmunks, and there are plenty of partridges, and ducks, and quails, and snipes; of course, we have to contrive some way to kill them. Fruits there are in abundance, and plenty of nuts of different kinds. At present we have plenty of fine strawberries, and huckleberries will be ripe soon in profusion, and bilberries too, and you know how pleasant they are; as for raspberries, I see none; but by-and-by there will be May-apples--I see great quant.i.ties of them in the low grounds, grapes, high-bush-cranberries, haws as large as cherries, and sweet too; squaw-berries, wild plums, choke-cherries, and bird-cherries. As to sweet acorns, there will be bushels and bushels of them for the roasting, as good as chestnuts, to my taste; and b.u.t.ter-nuts, and hickory-nuts,--with many other good things." And here Louis stopped for want of breath to continue his catalogue of forest dainties.

"Yes; and there are bears, and wolves, and rac.o.o.ns, too, that will eat us for want of better food," interrupted Hector, slyly. "Nay, Katty, do not shudder, as if you were already in the clutches of a big bear.

Neither bear nor wolf shall make mincemeat of thee, my girl, while Louis and thy brother are near, to wield an axe or a knife in thy defence."

"Nor catamount spring upon thee, ma belle cousine," added Louis, gallantly, "while thy bold cousin Louis can scare him away."

"Well, now that we know our resources, the next thing is to consider how we are to obtain them, my dears," said Catharine. "For fishing, you know, we must have a hook and line, a rod, or a net. Now, where are these to be met with?"

Louis nodded his head sagaciously. "The line I think I can provide; the hook is more difficult, but I do not despair even of that. As to the rod, it can be cut from any slender sapling on the sh.o.r.e. A net, ma chere, I could make with very little trouble, if I had but a piece of cloth to sew over a hoop."

Catharine laughed. "You are very ingenious, no doubt, Monsieur Louis, but where are you to get the cloth and the hoop, and the means of sewing it on?"

Lords took up the corner of his cousin's ap.r.o.n with a provoking look.

"My ap.r.o.n, sir, is not to be appropriated for any such purpose. You seem to covet it for everything."

"Indeed, ma pet.i.te, I think it very unbecoming and very ugly, and never could see any good reason why you and Mamma and Mathilde should wear such frightful things."

"It is to keep our gowns clean, Louis, when we are milking and scrubbing, and doing all sorts of household duties," said Catharine.

"Well, ma belle, you have neither cows to milk, nor house to clean,"

replied the annoying boy; "so there can be little want of the ap.r.o.n. I could turn it to fifty useful purposes."

"Pooh, nonsense," said Hector, impatiently, "let the child alone, and do not tease her about her ap.r.o.n."

"Well, then, there is another good thing I did not think of before, water mussels. I have heard my father and old Jacob the lumberer say, that, roasted in their sh.e.l.ls in the ashes, with a seasoning of salt and pepper, they are good eating when nothing better is to be got."

"No doubt, if the seasoning can be procured," said Hector, "but, alas for the salt and the pepper!"

"Well, we can eat them with the best of all sauces--hunger; and then, no doubt, there are crayfish in the gravel under the stones, but we must not mind a pinch to our fingers in taking them."

"To-morrow then let us breakfast on fish," said Hector. "You and I will try our luck, while Kate gathers strawberries; and if our line should break, we can easily cut those long locks from Catharine's head, and twist them into lines,"--and Hector laid his hands upon the long fair hair that hung in shining curls about his sister's neck.

"Cut my curls! This is even worse than cousin Louis's proposal of making tinder and fishing-nets of my ap.r.o.n," said Catharine, shaking back the bright tresses, which, escaping from the snood that bound them, fell in golden waves over her shoulders.

"In truth, Hec, it were a sin and a shame to cut her pretty curls, that become her so well," said Louis. "But we have no scissors, ma belle, so you need fear no injury to your precious locks."

"For the matter of that, Louis, we could cut them with your _couteau-de-cha.s.se_. I could tell you a story that my father told me, not long since, of Charles Stuart, the second king of that name in England. You know he was the grand-uncle of the young Chevalier Charles Edward, that my father talks of, and loves so much."

"I know all about him," said Catharine, nodding sagaciously; "let us hear the story of his grand-uncle. But I should like to know what my hair and Louis's knife can have to do with King Charles."

"Wait a bit, Kate, and you shall hear, that is, if you have patience,"

said her brother. "Well then, you must know, that after some great battle, the name of which I forget, _[FN: Battle of Worcester.]_ in which the King and his handful of brave soldiers were defeated by the forces of the Parliament, (the Roundheads, as they were called,) the poor young king was hunted like a partridge upon the mountains; a large price was set on his head, to be given to any traitor who should slay him, or bring him prisoner to Oliver Cromwell. He was obliged to dress himself in all sorts of queer clothes, and hide in all manner of strange, out of the way places, and keep company with rude and humble men, the better to hide his real rank from the cruel enemies that sought his life. Once he hid along with a gallant gentleman, _[FN: Colonel Careless.]_ one of his own brave officers, in the branches of a great oak. Once he was hid in a mill; and another time he was in the house of one Pendril, a woodman. The soldiers of the Parliament, who were always prowling about, and popping in unawares wherever they suspected the poor king to be hidden, were, at one time, in the very room where he was standing beside the fire."

"Oh!" exclaimed Catharine, "that was frightful. And did they take him prisoner?"

"No; for the wise woodman and his brothers, fearing lest the soldiers should discover that he was a cavalier and a gentleman, by the long curls that the king's men all wore in those days, and called _lovelocks_, begged of his majesty to let his hair be cropped close to his head."

"That was very hard, to lose his nice curls."

"I dare say the voting king thought so too, but it was better to lose his hair than his head. So, I suppose, the men told him, for he suffered them to cut it all close to his head, laying down his head on a rough deal table, or a chopping-block, while his faithful friends with a large knife trimmed off the curls."

"I wonder if the young king thought at that minute of his poor father, who, you know, was forced by wicked men to lay down his head upon a block to have it cut from his shoulders, because Cromwell, and others as hard-hearted as himself, willed that he should die." "Poor king!"

said Catharine, sighing, "I see that it is better to be poor children, wandering on these plains under G.o.d's own care, than to be kings and princes at the mercy of bad and sinful men."

"Who told your father all these things, Hec?" said Louis.

"It was the son of his brave colonel, who knew a great deal about the history of the Stuart kings, for our colonel had been with Prince Charles, the young chevalier, and fought by his side when he was in Scotland; he loved him dearly, and, after the battle of Culloden, where the Prince lost all, and was driven from place to place, and had not where to lay his head, he went abroad in hopes of better times; (but those times did not come for the poor Prince; and our colonel) after a while, through the friendship of General Wolfe, got a commission in the army that was embarking for Quebec, and, at last, commanded the regiment to which my father belonged. He was a kind man, and my father loved both him and his son, and grieved not a little when he parted from him."