life with well-disguised fiction; and it may be
doubted if he always knew himself which part of some of his favorite
"yarns" were truths, and which were due, as a phrenologist would say,
"to language and imaginativeness large, insufficiently balanced by
conscientiousness."

Kennedy was a wiry little New Brunswicker, born just across the St.
Croix, but a thorough-going Yankee by education, business habits, and
naturalization. "A Brahmin among the Brahmins," he believed in the New
York Tribune, as the purest source of all uninspired wisdom; and
bitterly regretted that the manifold avocations of Horace Greeley had
thus far prevented that truly great man from enlightening his
fellow-countrymen on the habits and proper modes of capture of the
_Anser Canadiensis_. As, despite his attenuated and dry appearance,
there was a deal of real humor in his composition, Kennedy was
considered quite an addition to our little party.

La Salle was--Well, reader, you must judge for yourself of what he was,
by the succeeding chapters of this simple history, for he it is who
recalls from the past these faint pen-pictures of scenes and pleasures
never to be forgotten, although years have passed since their
occurrence, and the grave has already claimed two of the six,--Risk, the
robust English gentlemen, and Hughie, the cheery, ingenious adventurer.
It is not easy to draw a fair picture of one's self, even with the aid
of a mirror, and when one can readily note the ravages of time in
thinning locks and increasing wrinkles, it is hard to speak of the
robust health of youth without exaggeration. At that time, however, he
was about twenty-three, having dark hair and eyes, a medium stature,
and splendid health. Like Hughie, in a humbler sphere, he was a dabbler
in many things,--lawyer, novelist, poet, trader, inventor, what
not?--taking life easily, with no grand aspirations, and no disturbing
fears for the future. In the intervals of business he found a keen
delight in the half-savage life and wholly natural joys of the angler
and sportsman, and ever felt that to wander by river and mere, with rod
and gun, would enable him to draw from the breast of dear old Mother
Earth that rude but joyous physical strength, with the possession of
which it is a constant pleasure even to exist.

It was late at night when, by the light of the winter moon, the boats
and decoys were unloaded from the heavy sleds, and placed in position on
the various bars and f