oward the rapids. The tide
was running up and the long sinewy arms of Paul, as he plied the paddle,
made the little bark fairly leap along. The rippling of the water was
all that broke in upon the stillness of the morning.

The steep, rugged country on either side the mouth of the St. John was
dressed in deepest green, tall and noble trees lined both banks. The
clear bright sky and the brighter sun made the river appear like a
winding stream of silver with borders of emerald. Her admiration of
natural beauty, she had herself confessed more than once during the
voyage to Grimross.

While Mrs. Godfrey was drinking in the beauties of the scenery, and
meditating on the loneliness that reigned supreme among the hills, the
canoe touched the shore. As Margaret stepped from the little bark to the
shore, a large grey snake passed athwart her pathway and disappeared
into a hole at the roots of a tree. She felt much concerned at this
circumstance, as in Ireland, her native land, it was a common belief
among the people that if a snake passed across a persons track without
being killed by the traveller, some evil was close upon his or her
track.

After the Indian had pulled the canoe out of the water, he led the way
up a slight incline, followed by Margaret and her children. They had
walked some two hundred yards over uneven ground and among trees, when
Paul suddenly stopped and then stepped off to the right, and beckoned to
those in his rear to follow him. A few steps brought the visitors in
sight of a wigwam. It was situated in a small open space, surrounded by
a dense forest of large, tall trees. In a minute or two all stood at the
opening in the camp.

Paul seemed to hesitate as he led the way inside. He removed an old
blanket which was hanging over the aperture. Opposite the entrance on
the further side of the camp lay a human form stretched on some old grey
blankets, that were spread over branches of spruce trees. The Indian
approached the bed and then stooped down and kissed its occupant, and
then beckoned to Margaret Godfrey to step forward. She at once obeyed.
To her astonishment there lay an old squaw with sunken cheeks and eyes.
Over her form was stretched a time-worn grey blanket, and on it laid a
wampum belt, and a string of wampum beads, an old plaid shawl supported
her head.

Margaret thought that she recognized the shawl as one she had brought
with her from Ireland, and wondered how it came there. She knelt dow