ces attempted were Scotch
reels, and the Indians tried to copy the fur-traders; but on finding
this somewhat difficult, they introduced some surprising steps of their
own, which threw the others entirely into the shade! There was
unfortunately no fiddler, but there was a fiddle--one made of pine wood
by an Indian, with strings of deer-skin sinew. Some of the boldest of
the party scraped _time_ without regard to _tune_, and our friend
Heywood beat the kettle-drum. The tones of the fiddle at last became so
horrible that it was banished altogether, and they danced that night to
the kettle-drum!

Of course the fair bride was the queen of that ball. Her countenance
was the light of it, and her modest, womanly manner had a softening
influence on the rough men who surrounded her.

When the ball was over, a curious thing occurred in the hall in which it
had taken place. The room was heated by a stove, and as a stove dries
the air of a room too much, it was customary to keep a pan of water on
the stove to moisten it a little. This moisture was increased that
night by the steam of the supper and by the wild dancing, so that, when
all was over, the walls and ceiling were covered with drops of water.
During the night this all froze in the form of small beautifully-shaped
crystals, and in the morning they found themselves in a crystal palace
of nature's own formation, which beat all the crystal palaces that ever
were heard of--at least in originality, if not in splendour.

Thus happily ended the marriage-day of honest Jasper Derry and sweet
Marie Laroche, and thus pleasantly began the new year of 18--. But as
surely as darkness follows light, and night follows day, so surely does
sorrow tread on the heels of joy in the history of man. God has so
ordained it, and he is wise who counts upon experiencing both.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE CONCLUSION.

A week after the events narrated in the last chapter, Jasper Derry was
sitting beside the stove in the hall at Fort Erie, smoking his pipe and
conversing with his father-in-law about his intention of going to Lake
Winnipeg with the brigade in spring and proceeding thence to Canada in a
bark canoe.

"Of course," said he, "I will take Marie with me, and if you'll take my
advice, father, you'll come too."

"No, my son, not yet a while," said old Laroche, shaking his head; "I
have a year yet to serve the Company before my engagement is out. After
that I may come, if I'm spar