rst time he could spare an hour or
two from his profession, he would ride over alone to Beaver Creek, and
see precisely the condition of the land, and what inroads had been made
upon it by Clarkson and the Indians. It was only a day or two later that
he carried out his intention; and after a few early visits to patients,
turned his horse's head along the road which, following the general
direction of the river bank, led towards Beaver Creek. He rode tolerably
fast for two or three miles, and then began to slacken his pace, and
look round him with greater interest. He was still some distance from
the creek itself, but the land lay on this side of it, and he was
curious to know the condition of the neighbouring farms. He had not
been very long resident in Cacouna, and was but little acquainted with
the country in this direction, except where, here and there, he had paid
professional visits.

But at last he arrived at what he knew by description must be his wife's
property, and his examination began in good earnest. For the most part,
however, there was nothing to examine except timber, and that of little
value. "Plenty of firewood," was his only comment as he went on. Beyond
the belt of wood, however, he came upon a clear space bordering the
creek, and strewed with decayed fish, fragments of old nets, and broken
pieces of wood--traces of the use to which the Indians were in the habit
of putting it. A small hut stood just in the shelter of the bush, but it
was empty, and the whole place had the look of being not inhabited, but
only visited occasionally for fishing.

A rough cart-track led past the hut and towards the mouth of the creek.
Along this Doctor Morton turned, and soon came in sight of the log-house
which Clarkson had built upon the very best corner of the land. It was
by no means an uncomfortable-looking dwelling. The rough logs were
partly covered by a wild vine, and a quantity of hop plants, still
green and leafy. The roof, instead of shingles, was thatched with sheets
of bark, and an iron stove pipe passing through these was the only
visible chimney. But the place had a well-to-do look, which was not
likely to improve the Doctor's good humour. There was a little garden
roughly railed in, in front, and some children playing there. At the end
of the house was a small farm-yard, with pigs, a cow, and a shaggy
horse, all looking out serenely at the stranger. Each one of the
occupants of the place seemed to feel p