, you were thinking more of
Captain Sinclair than of your cousins."

"That is very true, Emma; I was thinking of him," replied Mary, gravely.
"You don't know how I feel his absence."

"I can imagine it, though, my dearest Mary. Shall we soon see him
again?"

"I do not know; but I think not for three or four weeks, for certain.
All that can be spared from the fort are gone haymaking, and if he is
one of the officers sent with the men, of course he will be absent, and
if he is left in the fort, he will be obliged to remain there; so there
is no chance of seeing him until the haymaking is over."

"Where is it that they go to make hay, Mary?"

"You know they have only a sufficiency of pasture round the fort for the
cattle during the summer, so they go along by the borders of the lake
and islands, where they know there are patches of clear land, cut the
grass down, make the hay, and collect it all in the _bateaux_, and carry
it to the fort to be stacked for the winter. This prairie was their
best help, but now they have lost it."

"But Colonel Forster has promised papa sufficient hay for the cows for
this winter; indeed, we could not have fed them unless he had done so.
Depend upon it, Captain Sinclair will bring the hay round, and then we
shall see him again, Mary; but we must walk after our own cows now. No
one to drive them for us. If Alfred had any manners he might have
come."

"And why not Henry, Emma?" said Mary, with a smile.

"Oh! I don't know; Alfred came into my thoughts first."

"I believe that really was the case," replied Mary. "Now I'm even with
you; so go along and milk your cows."

"It's all very well, miss," replied Emma, laughing; "but wait till I
have learnt to fire my rifle, and then you'll be more cautious of what
you say."

On their return home, they found the old hunter with a fine buck lying
before him. Mr Campbell was out with the boys and Martin, who wished
his opinion as to the size of the punt.

"How do you do, Mr Bone?" said Mary. "Did John shoot that deer?"

"Yes; and shot it as well as an old hunter, and the creature can hardly
lift the gun to his shoulder. Which of you is named Mary?"

"I am," said Mary.

"Then I've something for you," said old Malachi, pulling from out of his
vest a small parcel, wrapped up in thin bark, and, handing it to her;
"it's a present from the Strawberry."

Mary opened the bark, and found inside of it a pair of mocassins, very
prettily w