t intervene.

It was mid-day, and a hot day too, when our travellers entered this
Indian town, which presents a striking aspect, situated as it is in the
heart of a cultivated and civilized country.

Huts are planted irregularly at some distance from the road, in fields
overgrown with rank grass. Half-naked Indians, yelling and hallooing,
were riding to and fro without saddles or bridles; on horses that looked
as wild as themselves. Some were stretched along the road-side, in a
state of brutal intoxication; others were lying under the shadows of
the noblest patriarchs of their woods, showing their patent right to
indolence as lords of the creation, while their women and girls were
sitting around them, busily making baskets and brooms. On the green
were groupes of men shooting arrows at a mark, playing at jack-straws,
football, and the various games of skill and chance by which the savage
drives away ennui--that demon that persecutes most fiercely at the
extremes of the human condition.

"One might almost fancy here," said Mr. Sackville, "that the march
of time had been stayed, and the land spell-bound, by some mighty
magician. The log-huts of these poor Indians are as rude structures
as the bark wigwams of their forefathers, and these rich lands are a
complete waste, except where we see here and there a little patch of
corn or potatoes. The savages certainly evince their faith in the
traditionary saying that 'the Great Spirit gave a plough to the white
man, and a bow and arrow to the Indian.'"

"And there," said Mrs. Sackville, pointing to some women who were
hoeing, "there is an illustration of another of their proverbs--'men
were made for war and hunting, and squaws and hedge-hogs to scratch the
ground.'"

Edward interrupted the conversation, to beg his father to stop in the
village long enough to allow him time to look into the interior of some
of the huts. While Mr. Sackville hesitated whether to incur the delay
necessary to afford this gratification to his son, the driver announced
that his off-leader had lost his shoe, and asked leave to stop at a
blacksmith's to have it replaced.

This request was readily granted; and while Mrs. Sackville entered into
some conversation with the blacksmith, who was a white man, Edward
bounded over a fence and across a field, towards a hut which was
scarcely perceptible except by a smoke that rose from it, and curled
through the branches of a lofty oak which stood before it.