to her mind that when Paul
Guidon saw the porpoises at the mouth of the Bay of Fundy coming toward
the sloop, he was not to be blamed for thinking they were canoes. She
remarked to Mrs. Fowler those canoes resemble, at first sight, porpoises
on the Atlantic Ocean.

When they arrived at the settlement Little Mag was taken to the home of
the Lesters. As she sat down in one of the small, unfurnished rooms, she
rested her head upon her hands and bitterly sobbed. Mrs. Godfrey tried
to comfort her, but she wept on. Little Mag said she felt badly at
leaving the wigwam. If she had stayed there her husband's spirit would
have come in the night and been with her. She would not see him but she
would know he was there. Indians always come back the night they are
buried to see their loved ones again before going off to the great
hunting grounds. After a time "Little Mag" fell asleep, and in her
dream, as she reclined on a bench, talked in an unknown tongue. Neither
Margaret nor any present could understand a word she uttered. She
appeared to be conversing with some invisible being, invisible, at
least, to the pale faces. It may have been that in that little room
there was sweet communion between the widowed squaw and her departed
husband. She said to Mrs Godfrey after she awoke that she thought she
saw her husband and heard him say, "Don't worry about Paul." "Happy
hunting grounds here." "See you far off." "Far beyond setting sun." He
appeared to be speaking to her out of the setting sun. He was surrounded
by a golden light, while he looked to be dressed in polished silver, and
when she awoke by falling on the floor, she had started to fling herself
into his arms, which were outstretched to receive her; but when her eyes
were opened all around her was darkness.[7]

[Footnote 7: See interpretation of the dream at close of Chapter.]

Soon after relating the above she retired to bed and in the morning
seemed refreshed and happy. She sang songs in the Chippewayan tongue
during the morning; her deep black eye became brighter; her step was
light and quick, and her whole frame seemed to move to silent music, so
regular, graceful and quick were her motions.

Who among us of earth knows but there are times in the lives of some of
us, if not all of us, when the silent influences of dear departed
friends, happy in the etherial or spirit world, unconsciously direct our
thoughts and guide our movements.

In a few days Margaret Godfrey was p