been hunting--successfully--for the thick man carried a small
deer on his lusty shoulders.

On hearing the first notes of the instrument the three youths started
into three different attitudes as if of petrified surprise, and remained
so, waiting for more.

They had not to wait long, for, after tickling the fiddle once or twice
to get it in perfect tune, Mowat raised his eyes to the pine-plank
ceiling and glided softly into one of those exquisite Scottish airs by
means of which a first-rate performer on the violin can almost draw the
soul out of a man's body. We think it was "The Flowers of the Forest."

Whatever it was the three Dogribs were ravished. They turned their
heads slowly, as if afraid to break the spell, and looked at each other,
showing the whites of their great eyes increasingly, while each raised a
hand with spread fingers as if to keep the others from speaking. They
had never heard anything approaching to it before. They had never even
imagined anything like it. It was an utterly new sensation. What could
it be? They had heard of something strange in the musical way from
Nazinred and Mozwa, but with the carelessness of youth they had scarce
listened to the comments of these men. Now it burst upon their awakened
sense like sounds from some other planet. Their mouths opened slowly as
well as their eyes, and there was an expression of awe in their faces
which betokened a touch of superstitious fear.

Suddenly Mowat drew his bow across all the strings with a skirl that
might have shamed the bagpipes, and burst into the Reel o' Tullochgorum.

The effect was electrical. The thick man dropped the deer; the thin man
sloped forward; the fat man sprang into the air, and all three made for
the woods as if all the spirits of evil were after them in full cry.

We need hardly say, after this, that those Dogrib Indians spent an
excited and agreeable evening with the fur-traders. They appreciated
the dancing, undoubtedly, though very few of them would condescend to
join. They appreciated the plum-duff and the greasy cakes highly, and
they more than appreciated the tea--especially the women--which
MacSweenie took care to provide hot, strong, and sweet. But there is no
doubt that the lion of the evening was--the "fuddle."

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

A MYSTERIOUS JOURNEY AND A GREAT DISCOVERY.

Putting on the wings of imagination, good reader, let us once more fly
over the snow-fields of the lone Nor'-w