w
blows of the axe to have cleared it away out of such a wood as that
behind us. Why, it is as good as a fortune to a new settler."

"I think it is, Martin," replied Mr Campbell.

"Well, sir, now to work as soon as you please, for a day is a day, and
must not be lost. I'll go to the wood with fire or six of the men who
can handle an axe, and begin to cut down, leaving you and the captain
there to decide where the house is to be; the other soldiers will be
putting up the tents all ready for to-night, for you must not expect a
house over your heads till next full moon."

In a quarter of an hour all were in motion. Henry and Alfred took their
axes, and followed Martin Super and half of the soldiers, the others
were busy landing the stores and pitching the tents, while Captain
Sinclair and Mr Campbell were surveying the ground, that they might
choose a spot for the erection of the house. Mrs Campbell remained
sitting on the knoll, watching the debarkation of the packages, and
Percival, by her directions, brought to her those articles which were
for immediate use. Mary and Emma Percival, accompanied by John, as they
had no task allotted to them, walked up by the side of the stream
towards the wood.

"I wish I had my box," said John, who had been watching the running
water.

"Why do you want your box, John?" said Mary.

"For my hooks in my box," replied John.

"Why, do you see any fish in this small stream?" said Emma.

"Yes," replied John, walking on before them.

Mary and Emma followed him, now and then stopping to pick a flower
unknown to them: when they overtook John, he was standing immovable,
pointing to a figure on the other side of the stream, as fixed and
motionless as himself.

The two girls started back as they beheld a tall, gaunt man, dressed in
deer-hides, who stood leaning upon a long gun with his eyes fixed upon
them. His face was bronzed and weather-beaten--indeed so dark that it
was difficult to say if he were of the Indian race or not.

"It must be the hunter, Emma," said Mary Percival; "he is not dressed
like the Indians we saw at Quebec."

"It must be," replied Emma; "won't he speak?"

"We will wait and see," replied Mary. They did wait for a minute or
more, but the man neither spoke nor shifted his position.

"I will speak to him, Mary," said Emma at last. "My good man, you are
Malachi Bone, are you not?"

"That's my name," replied the hunter in a deep voice; "and who on earth