"What's to be done to-morrow, Martin?" said Alfred.

"Why, sir, there are boards enough to make a fishing-punt, and if you and Mr. Henry will help me, I think we shall have one made in two or three days. The lake is full of fish, and it's a pity not to have some while the weather is so fine."

"I've plenty of lines in the store-room," said Mr. Campbell.

"Master Percival would soon learn to fish by himself," said Martin, "and then he'll bring as much as Master John."

"Fish!" said John with disdain.

"Yes, fish, Master John," replied Martin; "a good hunter is always a good fisherman, and don't despise them, for they often give him a meal when he would otherwise go to sleep with an empty stomach."

"Well, I'll catch fish with pleasure," cried Percival, "only I must sometimes go out hunting."

"Yes, my dear boy, and we must sometimes go to bed; and I think it is high time now, as we must all be up to-morrow at daylight."

The next morning, Mary and Emma set off to milk the cows--not, as usual, attended by some of the young men, for Henry and Alfred were busy, and Captain Sinclair was gone. As they 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 officers sent with the men, of course he will be absent, and if he is left in the fort, he will be obliged to remain there; so there is no chance of seeing him until the haymaking is over."

"Where is it that they go to make hay, Mary?"

"You know they have only a sufficiency of pasture round the fort for the cattle during the summer, so they go along by the borders of the lake and islands, where they know there are patches of clear land, cut the gra.s.s down, make the hay, and collect it all in the _bateaux_, and carry it to the fort to be stacked for the winter. This prairie was their best help, but now they have lost it."

"But Colonel Forster has promised papa sufficient hay for the cows for this winter; indeed, we could not have fed them unless he had done so.

Depend upon it, Captain Sinclair will bring the hay round, and then we shall see him again, Mary; but we must walk after our own cows now. No one to drive them for us. If Alfred had any manners he might have come."

"And why not Henry, Emma?" said Mary, with a smile.

"Oh! I don't know; Alfred came into my thoughts first."

"I believe that really was the case," replied Mary. "Now I'm even with you; so go along and milk your cows."

"It's all very well, miss," replied Emma, laughing; "but wait till I have learned to fire my rifle, and then you'll be more cautious of what you say."

On their return home, they found the old hunter with a fine buck lying before him. 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.

"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 am afraid you will be a long while before you are paid, if you only take it out in goods from my store-house."

"All the better, master; they will last till I die, and then what's left will do for the boy here," replied the old hunter, putting his hand upon John's head.

"Bone," said Mr. Campbell, "I have no objection to the boy going with you occasionally; but I cannot permit him to be away always. I want him to come home 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 long we may look for it, and how far it may lead us? 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 every thing else as concerns a hunter to do. You must let him be with me longer, and, if you please, when he comes back 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 all in reason 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 holidays."

"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 judgment, 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 state of nature, and the first and most important knowledge, is to learn to gain our livelihoods."