y brother, would to God that I had died for thee, my
brother, oh, my brother!" Just as we reached our garden fence we heard
the familiar breakfast drum, and saw our father and Captain Scott
walking in a somewhat excited manner, back and forth, and discussing
something, we could not hear what. We afterwards learned it was our
conduct, and that while father felt that we should at least be
severely reprimanded, our friend, the Captain, made him promise he
would say nothing in the way of reproof, until he had drunk his
coffee. In consequence of this we were simply saluted kindly, but not
warmly, and we followed the gentlemen to the breakfast-room, where a
rousing fire in the great fireplace, and a most appetizing breakfast
awaited us, which our long tramp in the bitter morning air had
prepared us to enjoy most thoroughly, notwithstanding the mental
disturbance which could not be allayed, until confession had been made
and forgiveness granted. Just as our meal was ending, a soldier
entered the room, and said: "Malcolm, there is an Indian boy here with
a wolf, who wants to see you." This announcement brought all to their
feet, and every one rushed out so see the sight, and there, with his
foot fast in our trap, lay a large timber-wolf, exhausted with pain
and fatigue. Captain Scott examining him carefully, pronounced him the
very one they had tried in vain to capture, and he congratulated the
little boy and girl who had succeeded so fully where older ones had
failed. That was a proud moment in our lives, but until we had told
our parents how sorry we were to have grieved and distressed them, and
had obtained full pardon, sealed with a loving kiss from each, we
could not wholly enjoy it. Then we gave our Indian a royal breakfast,
and his promised reward beside, and the wolf was taken away and put
out of his misery, while beside the comfortable fireside we told all
about our morning walk, from reveille to breakfast-drum.

After this Captain Scott took me to the Sutler's store, and made me
select for myself a handsome dress, as a present from him, to a brave
little girl, as he was pleased to call me, and he took me in his
sleigh, drawn by one of his beautiful horses (I think his name was
"Telegraph"), back to my mother, telling her, not many little girls of
seven years old could go out before breakfast on a cold morning, and
chase a wolf so successfully. To my brother he gave a pretty pony,
which was a never-ending source of joy