ot only over an almost limitless world of forests, lakes, and
rivers--away to where the haze of the horizon seemed to melt with them
into space--but beyond that to where the great backbone of the New World
rose sharp, clear, and gigantic above the mists of earth, until they
reached and mingled with the fleecy clouds of heaven. To judge from
their glittering eyes, even the souls of the not very demonstrative
Indians were touched by the scene. As for the prairie chief, who had
risen to the perceptions of the new life in Christ he halted and stood
for some moments as if lost in contemplation. Then, turning to the
young hunter at his side, he said softly--

"The works of the Lord are great."

"Strange," returned Big Tim, "that you should use the very same words
that I've heard my daddy use sometimes when we've come upon a grand view
like that."

"Not so strange when I tell you," replied Whitewing, "that these are
words from the Book of Manitou, and that your father and I learned them
together long ago from the preacher who now lies wounded in your hut."

"Ay, ay! Daddy didn't tell me that. He's not half so given to serious
talk as you are, Whitewing, though I'm free to admit that he does take a
fit o' that sort now an' again, and seems raither fond of it. The fact
is, I don't quite understand daddy. He puzzles me."

"Perhaps Leetil Tim is too much given to fun when he talks with Big
Tim," suggested the red chief gravely, but with a slight twinkle in his
eyes, which told that he was not quite destitute of Little Tim's
weakness--or strength, as the reader chooses.

After a brief halt the party descended the slope which led to the
elevated valley they had now reached, and, having proceeded a few miles,
again came to a halt because the ground had become so rocky that the
trail of the hunter was lost.

Ordering the young men to spread themselves over the ground, Whitewing
went with Big Tim to search over the ridge of a neighbouring eminence.

"It is as I expected," he said, coming to a sudden stand, and pointing
to a faint mark on the turf. "Leetil Tim has taken the short cut to the
Lopstick Hill, but I cannot guess the reason why."

Big Tim was down on his knees examining the footprints attentively.

"Daddy's futt, an' no mistake," he said, rising slowly. "I'd know the
print of his heel among a thousand. He's got a sort o' swagger of his
own, an' puts it down with a crash, as if he wanted to leave his mark