not the envy of Ajax himself. "Keep it up, Jenkins!"

"Ay, ay, sir!" responded the nautical warrior, as he laid about him with
an enormous buffalo robe, which was the only weapon that seemed
sufficiently suited to his gigantic frame; "never say die as long as
there's a shot in the locker."

Elise stood behind him, lost in admiration, and giving an imbecile flap
now and then with a towel to anything that happened to come in front of
her.

Elspie was more self-possessed. She tried to wield a jack-towel with
some effect, while Dan, Fergus, Duncan junior, Bourassin, Andre Morel,
and others ably, but uselessly, supported their heroic leader. La
Certe, who chanced to be there at the time, went actively about
encouraging others to do their very best. Old Peg made a feeble effort
to do what she conceived to be her duty, and Okematan stood by, calmly
looking on--his grave countenance exhibiting no symptom of emotion, but
his mind filled with intense surprise, not unmingled with pity, for the
Palefaces who displayed such an amount of energy in attempting the
impossible.

That self-defence, in the circumstances, was indeed impossible soon
became apparent, for the enemy descended in such clouds that they filled
up the half-formed ditch, extinguished the fires with their dead bodies,
defied the blanket-warriors, and swarmed not only into the garden of old
Duncan McKay but overwhelmed the whole land.

Darkness and exhaustion from the fight prevented the people of Ben Nevis
Hall and Prairie Cottage from at first comprehending the extent of the
calamity with which they had thus been visited, but enough had been seen
to convince McKay that his garden was doomed. When he at last allowed
the sad truth to force itself into his mind he suffered Elspie to lead
him into the house.

"Don't grieve, daddy," she said, in a low comforting tone; "perhaps it
won't be as bad as it seems."

"Fetch me my pipe, lass," he said on reaching his bedroom.

"Goot-night to you, my tear," he added, on receiving the implement of
consolation.

"Won't you eat--or drink--something, daddy dear?"

"Nothing--nothing. Leave me now. We hev had a goot fight, whatever,
an' it iss to bed I will be goin' now."

Left alone the old man lay down in his warrior-harness, so to speak,
lighted his pipe, smoked himself into a sort of philosophical contempt
for everything under the sun, moon, and stars, and finally dropped his
sufferings, as well as his pipe, b