the disgrace of losing his way; and,
what was much worse, losing his feast? Certainly not! With stern
resolve on every lineament of his infantile visage he changed his
direction, and pushed on. We need scarcely add that he soon stopped
again; resolved and re-resolved to succeed, and changed his direction
again and again till he became utterly bewildered, and, finally, sitting
down on the trunk of a fallen tree, shut his eyes, opened his little
mouth, and howled. It was sad, but it was natural that at so early a
period of life the stoicism of the savage should be overcome by the
weakness of the child. Finding after a while that howling resulted in
nothing but noise, Poosk suddenly shut his mouth, and opened his eyes.
There seemed to be some intimate connection between the two operations.
Perhaps there was. The opening of the eyes went on to the uttermost,
and then became a fixed glare, for, right in front of him sat a white
rabbit on its hind legs, and, from its expression, evidently filled with
astonishment equal to his own.

The spirit of the hunter arose, and that of the child vanished, as
little Poosk sprang up and gave chase. Of course the rabbit "sloped,"
and in a few minutes both pursued and pursuer were lost in the depths of
the snow-encumbered forest.

On a point of rocks which jutted out into a frozen lake, stood a small
church with a small spire, small porch, and diminutive windows. The
pastor of that church dwelt close to it in a wooden house or log cabin,
which possessed only one window and a door. A much larger hut alongside
of it served as a school-house and meeting-hall. In this little
building the man of God, assisted by a Red Indian convert, taught the
Red Men of the wilderness the way of life through Jesus Christ, besides
giving them a little elementary and industrial education suited to their
peculiar circumstances; and here, on the day of which we write, he had
prepared the sumptuous feast to which reference has just been made. The
pastor's wife and daughter had prepared it. There were venison pies and
ptarmigan pasties; there were roasts of fowls, and roasts of rabbits,
and stews of many things which we will not venture to describe, besides
puddings of meat, and puddings of rice, and puddings of plums; also tea
and coffee to wash it all down. There was no strong drink. Strong
health and appetite were deemed sufficient to give zest to the
proceedings. The company was remarkably savag