rope, which he fastened around the
trunk of an uprooted tree. From his appearance, he belonged to one of
those native tribes, who, from constant intercourse and traffic with the
French Acadians, had imbibed some of the habits and ideas of civilized
life. His dress was, in many respects, similar to the European's; but
the embroidered moccasins, the cloak of deer-skins, and plume of scarlet
feathers, shewed that he had not altogether abandoned the customs and
finery of his own people. His figure was less tall and athletic than the
generality of Indian youth, and his finely formed features were animated
by an expression of vivacity and careless good-humour, very different
from the usual gravity of his nation. The page looked at him with a
degree of curiosity and interest which he could neither suppress nor
define. Half ashamed of his own timidity, he resolved to address him,
and seek the information he was so desirous of obtaining, if, indeed, he
had been sufficiently conversant with the French settlers to communicate
his ideas in that language. While he still hesitated, the Indian had
secured his canoe, and as he stooped to take something from it, he began
to hum in a low voice, and presently, to the great surprise of Hector,
broke into a lively French air, the words and tune of which were
perfectly familiar to his ear. The dog also seemed to recognize it; he
started on his feet, listened attentively, and then, with a joyful
bark, sprang towards the Indian, and began to fawn around him and lick
his hands, with every demonstration of sincere pleasure.

"By our lady, you are a brave fellow, my faithful Hero," said the
Indian, in very pure French, as he caressed the animal; then casting a
searching glance around, he continued to address him, "But how came you
here, and alone, to greet your master on his return?"

The page could scarcely repress an exclamation of surprise, as he
listened to the well-remembered voice; but drawing his cloak more
closely round him, and confining his dark locks beneath the tartan
bonnet, which he pulled over his brow, he advanced nearer, though still
unseen, and said in a disguised tone,

"Methinks thou art but a sorry actor, to be thrown off thy guard by the
barking of a dog; if I had a tongue so little used to keep its own
counsel, I would choose a mask which it would not so readily betray."

"Thou art right, by all the saints," replied the other; "and be thou
friend or foe, I will see to w