e no other society was available, had made
comrades of her children. "What we did in Montreal" was the type of
what she attempted to do under her more restricted conditions. So, for
a long season of peace, the Keiths sang and made merry over every
trifling incident. Did the father bring home an extra load of game, at
once there was a feast prepared and all the friendly Indians, the only
neighbors, were invited to come and partake.

On one such occasion, when a red-skinned guest had brought with him a
bottle of the forbidden "fire-water," a quarrel ensued. The trader was
of sterner sort than his light-hearted wife, and of violent temper. In
his own house his word was law, and he remonstrated with the Indian
for his action. To little Gaspar, in his memories, it seemed but a
moment's transition from a laughing group about a well-spread table to
a scene of horror. He saw--but he could never afterward speak in any
definite way of what he saw. Only he knew that almost before he had
pushed back from his place he had been caught up on the shoulder of
the chief Winnemeg, also a guest; and in another moment was riding
behind that warrior at breakneck speed toward the little garrison, in
pursuit of shelter for himself and aid for his defenceless family.

The shelter was speedily found, but the aid came too late; and for a
time the women of the Fort had a difficult task in comforting the
fright-crazed boy. However, they were used to such incidents. Their
courage and generosity were unlimited, and they persevered in their
care till he recovered and repaid them by his faithful devotion and
service.

The manner of his arrival among them was never discussed in his
presence, and as he gradually came to act like other, happier
children, they hoped he had outgrown his troubles. He had now been at
the Fort for two years, during all which time he had gone but short
distances from it. Yet even in his restricted outings he had picked up
much knowledge of useful things from the settlers near, and of things
apparently not so useful from his red-faced friends. So it happened
that there was not, probably, even any Indian boy who could string a
bow or aim an arrow better than Gaspar.

The Sauganash himself had presented the little fellow with a bow of
finest workmanship, and had taught him the rare trick of shooting at
fixed paces. It had been the delight of the garrison to watch him, in
their hours of recreation, accomplish this feat. Sightin