uge
watch-fires threw their glare over the dark woods at night; round each
was a family of the Montaignais, the hunters, their wives and
children. Meynell, Ta-ou-renche, and Atawa, formed one of these
groups. The Englishman was sadly fatigued and foot-sore after the
first day's journey, although it had been but a short one. The heavy
and unaccustomed snow-shoe hurt his feet, though Atawa's careful hands
had tied them on; and the weight of the tobogan wearied him, though
both of his companions had given him great aid. They watched him with
the tenderest care, and long after he slept soundly on his snowy
couch, Atawa sat with her eyes fixed upon his still beautiful face,
lighted up by the red flame of the watch-fire. The next day he got on
better, and in a week he was able to take his share in the labour, and
walk as stoutly as any of them.

After they left the river's bank, they crossed a dreary table-land of
great extent, nearly a hundred and fifty miles across, where there was
no brook or lake, and but little wood, and that of a stunted and
blasted growth; under the thick covering of the snow was nothing but
rock and sand and sterile soil, for all that weary way. In a few
places they found masses of ice, which they melted down for water, but
there was neither fish nor game. Here they were obliged to consume
nearly all their store of provisions, but for this they were prepared,
and cared but little. Beyond this barren land lay the land of plenty,
where they and their forefathers, from time immemorial, had feasted on
the abundant forest-deer. About the thirteenth evening of their
journey, they encamped within sight of this deeply wooded undulating
country that they sought, and celebrated their arrival with rude
rejoicings.

The next morning they started equipped for the chase, the women
following the hunters slowly with their burdens. Ta-ou-renche pushed
on among the foremost, Meynell nearly by his side, while their dogs,
half-starved and ravenous, dashed on in front. They had advanced for
an hour or two without meeting a quarry, to their great surprise, when
they heard the dogs giving tongue far ahead in a deep woody valley.
Ta-ou-renche and Meynell pushed on rapidly, full of hope, and excited
at the prospect of the chase; they reached the brow of the hill, and
descended at a run into the valley, where they found the dogs all
collected round the skeleton of a moose-deer, tugging furiously at its
huge bones. The snow