"Very good," replied the Surveyor-General; "here is the document all
right, Mr Campbell. Ladies, I fear I must run away, for I have an
engagement. I will leave Martin Super, Mr Campbell, as you would
probably like a little conversation together."

The Surveyor-General then took his leave, and Martin Super remained.
Mrs Campbell was the first who spoke:

"Super," said she, "I hope we shall be very good friends, but now tell
me what you mean by your--totem, I think you called it?"

"Why, ma'am, a totem is an Indian's mark, and you know I am almost an
Indian myself. All the Indian chiefs have their totems. One is called
the Great Otter; another the Serpent, and so on, and so they sign a
figure like the animal they are named from. Then, ma'am, you see, we
trappers, who almost live with them, have names given to us also, and
they have called me the Painter."

"Why did they call you the Painter."

"Because I killed two of them in one day."

"Killed two painters?" cried the girls.

"Yes, miss; killed them both with my rifle."

"But why did you kill the men?" said Emma; "was it in battle?"

"Kill the men, miss; I said nothing about men; I said I killed two
painters," replied Martin, laughing, and showing a row of teeth as white
as ivory.

"What is a painter, then, Super?" inquired Mrs Campbell.

"Why, it's an animal, and a very awkward creature, I can tell you,
sometimes."

"The drawing is something like a panther, mamma," exclaimed Mary.

"Well, miss, it may be a panther, but we only know them by the other
name."

Mr Farquhar then came in, and the question was referred to him; he
laughed and told him that painters were a species of panther, not
spotted, but tawny-coloured, and at times very dangerous.

"Do you know the part of the country where we are going to?" said Henry
to Super.

"Yes, I have trapped thereabouts for months, but the beavers are scarce
now."

"Are there any other animals there?"

"Yes," replied Martin, "small game, as we term it."

"What sort are they?"

"Why, there's painters, and bears, and cat-a'-mountains."

"Mercy on us I do you call that small game? Why, what must the large
be, then?" said Mrs Campbell.

"Buffaloes, missus, is what we call big game."

"But the animals you speak of are not good eating, Super," said Mrs
Campbell; "is there no game that we can eat?"

"Oh, yes, plenty of deer and wild turkey; and bear's good eating, I
reckon."

"Ah! that sounds b