d them; we will try and make them our
friends."

"The wolf and the lamb do not lie down in the fold together," observed
Hector. "The Indian is treacherous. The wild man and the civilized man
do not live well together, their habits and dispositions are so contrary
the one to the other. We are open, and they are cunning, and they
suspect our openness to be only a greater degree of cunning than their
own--they do not understand us. They are taught to be revengeful, and we
are taught to forgive our enemies. So you see that what is a virtue with
the savage, is a crime with the Christian. If the Indian could be
taught the word of God, he might be kind and true, and gentle as well as
brave."

It was with conversations like this that our poor wanderers wiled away
their weariness. The love of life, and the exertions necessary for
self-preservation, occupied so large a portion of their thoughts and
time, that they had hardly leisure for repining. They mutually cheered
and animated each other to bear up against the sad fate that had thus
severed them from every kindred tie, and shut them out from that home to
which their young hearts were bound by every endearing remembrance from
infancy upwards.

One bright September morning, our young people set off on an exploring
expedition, leaving the faithful Wolfe to watch the wigwam, for they
well knew he was too honest to touch their store of dried fish and
venison himself, and too trusty and fierce to suffer wolf or wild cat
near it.

They crossed several narrow deep ravines, and the low wooded flat
_[FN: Now the fertile firm of Joe Harris, a Yankee settler whose
pleasant meadows and fields of grain form a pretty feature from the
lake. It is one of the oldest clearings on the shore, and speaks well
for the persevering industry of the settler and his family.]_ along the
lake shore, to the eastward of Pine-tree Point. Finding it difficult
to force their way through the thick underwood that always impedes the
progress of the traveller on the low shores of the lake, they followed
the course of an ascending narrow ridge, which formed a sort of natural
causeway between two parallel hollows, the top of this ridge being in
many places, not wider than a cart or waggon could pass along. The sides
were most gracefully adorned with flowering shrubs, wild vines, creepers
of various species, wild cherries of several kinds, hawthorns, bilberry
bushes, high-bush cranberries, silver birch, poplars,