whether it was not the great ocean itself.

"It is not the sea," said their guide, as he surveyed the watery expanse
with evident enthusiasm. "It is a lake full fifty miles long, yet it is
not the largest lake in this island. Taste its waters and you will find
them sweet. Here," he added, with a look of gratification, "is my
home."

"God has given you a wide domain," said Paul, gazing with pleasure on
the verdant islets with which the bay before him was studded. "Yet I
cannot help thinking that it is a waste of one's life to spend it in a
solitude, however beautiful, when the sorrowing and the suffering world
around us calls for the active energies of all good men."

The hunter seemed to ponder Paul's words.

"It appears to me," he said at last, "that our Creator meant us to serve
Him by making ourselves and those around us happy. I have to do so
here, and in some degree have succeeded."

As he spoke he raised both hands to his mouth and gave vent to a
prolonged halloo that swept out over the calm waters of the bay.

It was quickly replied to by a shrill cry, and in a few minutes a canoe,
emerging from one of the islets, was seen paddling swiftly towards them.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE HUNTER'S HOME.

The canoe, which approached the shores of the lake where our explorers
stood, was a large one, built after the fashion of the coracle of the
ancient Britons, namely, with a frame of wicker-work covered with
deerskin. It was propelled with paddles by a woman seated in the stern
and a little girl in the bow.

"My wife is a woman of forethought," remarked Hendrick, with a pleased
expression. "Seeing that we are a large party, she has not only brought
our largest canoe, but has made Oscar get out the small one."

He pointed to the island, from a creek in which a little canoe of a
reddish colour was seen to issue. It was made of birch-bark, and was
propelled by a small boy, who seemed from his exertions to be in urgent
haste to overtake the other craft.

"Your son, I suppose?" said Paul.

"Yes, my eldest. His younger brother is but a babe yet. These, with my
daughter Goodred, and my wife Trueheart, who are now approaching,
constitute the family which God has given to me."

A feeling of satisfaction filled the heart of Paul Burns as he listened
to the last words, for they proved that their new friend was not among
those who deem it weakness or hypocrisy in men to openly acknowledge
their Maker as the