Chapter Five.

Chapter Five.Stock of provisions at the fort still further decreased—Reports of Sioux being in the neighbourhood—Preparations for defence—Children’s amusement of “coasting”—Sioux seen in the distance—The hunters caught by them—Camp-fires of Indians seen in the distance—Fresh bands join them.The trials to which the inhabitants of the fort were exposed were becoming greater every day. The store of potatoes and other vegetables in the root-house, where they were secured from the frost, deep down below the surface, was rapidly lessening.Mr Ramsay had lately inspected the meat pit, in which the carcases of the buffaloes and other animals shot during the previous fall were preserved, and found it nearly empty. Meat is preserved in that region in a peculiar manner. A deep pit is dug, and while the frost is still in the air, and the snow covers the ground, all the animals killed are placed in it. The bottom is lined with a coating of snow beaten hard, and then a layer of meat is placed on it. On the top of this more snow is beaten, when an additional layer of meat is placed in the pit, and so on till the whole is full. It is then covered over with snow, and a thickly-thatched roof is erected over it. The meat-cellar, indeed, resembles an English ice-house. The meat thus remains in a fit condition to be eaten throughout the year. Fish is preserved in the same way. During the winter, however, the fish, when caught, become frozen, and can be kept in an open shed.This year, as we have said, in consequence of the early frost, but a small supply of fish had been caught.Mr Ramsay was looking out anxiously for the arrival of the expected supplies, but no news of their coming had yet readied him. The hunters had returned unsuccessful from the chase, and had again gone out with the intention of proceeding to a greater distance than before. News came also which caused the small remaining garrison some anxiety. It was reported that, contrary to their usual custom, for they seldom travel during winter, a large body of Sioux had been seen moving northward on a warlike expedition. Although their destination was unknown, it was feared, as they had long threatened to attack the fort, should they discover how small was its present garrison, and how greatly pressed for food, they might put their evil intentions into execution. Mr Ramsay accordingly made every preparation for defence in his power, and few as were the numbers with him, he hoped to repulse the foe. His fears were rather on account of the hunters scattered at a distance from each other, and who, should they fall into the hands of the Sioux, might be cut off in detail. To call them back was now impossible, as, should he send out to search for them, he would have had still further to lessen the number of defenders. Constant watch was kept day and night, and he determined, at all events, not to be taken by surprise.Meantime Laurence had greatly recovered his strength, and, clad in a warm fur dress, was able to move about, both inside and for a short distance outside the fort.The chief amusement of the younger portion of the inhabitants was “coasting,” or sliding down the steep side of the hill on which the fort stood seated on small boards placed on runners, called “toboggins.” Descending from the height, the impetus they gained carried them for a considerable distance over the level plain, till they were finally brought up by a heap of snow at the end of a long path they had thus formed. The toboggin was then drawn up to the top of the hill, when the young coaster again went sliding down, followed in succession by his companions, shouting and cheering with delight, especially when any of the toboggins went off the line, and their companions were half-buried in the heap of snow below.This amusement Laurence infinitely preferred to learning to read the books which Jeanie brought him, although she offered to be his instructress. He would sit, however, very patiently during the long winter evenings while she read to him. He told her frankly that the only books which interested him were those of adventures and hairbreadth escapes in various parts of the world. He listened attentively, however, when she read the Bible, but seemed far more interested in the narratives it contained than in any other portion. Its Divine truths had as yet, it seemed, made no impression on his mind.“Now, Jeanie, I have been a good boy, and listened with my ears open to all you have been reading about, and I think it is but fair that you in return should come and coast with me to-morrow,” he said one day, after she had read to him for some time. “I have had a beautiful new toboggin made for you, and I am sure it will run faster and straighter than any in the fort.”“I shall be very glad to come, if mamma will let me, though you are so very bad a scholar that you do not deserve to have your way,” she answered.“If I promise to learn better in future, will you ask leave to come?” urged Laurence. “I should like to be able to read about the wonderful things you tell me of in your books.”“If you promise, I’ll ask mamma to let me do as you wish,” answered Jeanie. “But, remember, God hears every word you say, and knows everything you think, and the promise made to me is really made to God, and it will grieve Him if you break it.”“Oh, but I mean to keep my promise, though I cannot fancy that the Great Spirit cares for what a young boy like me may think or say,” answered Lawrence.“Oh, yes, yes, He cares for young and old alike,” exclaimed Jeanie. “He tells us that the very hairs of our head are numbered, and He knows every sparrow that falls to the ground. That is to make us understand that He is interested in all we think about, and in even the very smallest thing we do. It always makes me very happy when I reflect that God cares for me, and loves me even more than my father and mother can do, though they love me a great deal, because He is so much more powerful than they are, and He can help me and keep me out of temptation when I am inclined to be naughty, which they, with all their love and interest in me, cannot do.”“I wish that I could think as you do, Jeanie,” said Laurence. “I must try to do so, though; then you will ask your mamma’s leave to come and coast on the new sleigh?”“Yes, I will ask her,” said Jeanie. “And you must show that you are in earnest, by trying to say your alphabet this evening. You missed out a great many of the letters yesterday, and I felt ashamed of you.”Laurence had hitherto made but very slow progress in his studies. His head and eyes ached, he said, whenever he looked at a book, though he really was anxious to learn for the sake of pleasing Jeanie.Mrs Ramsay did not object to allow Jeanie to try the new sleigh, and the next morning, accompanied by several other girls, she set out in high glee with Mrs Ramsay, who went to look on at the sport. Laurence carried the sleigh on his shoulders, a number of other boys being similarly provided.Proceeding round outside the fort, they soon reached the steep part of the hill. In another minute, a merry laughing party were gliding down the side, one after the other, with headlong speed, the impetus sending them several hundred yards over the smooth hard surface of the snow beyond. Laurence, who sat in front, guiding Jeanie’s sleigh, was delighted to find that it went further than any of the others. Up the hill again they soon came, the boys carrying the sleighs, and the girls scrambling up by their sides.Laurence and Jeanie had coasted down the side of the hill, followed by their companions, and had been carried some distance from the fort, when they heard a shout from the watch-tower nearest them. It was repeated again and again in more urgent tones, calling them back to the fort.“What can it mean?” asked Jeanie. “We must go, at all events; and, see, there’s mamma on the top of the hill beckoning to us.”Laurence proposed to make another trip, saying he was sure there was no necessity to be in a hurry.“If we are called, we ought to go, we must go,” said Jeanie. “It would be very wrong to delay a minute.”Thus urged, Laurence took up the sleigh, and the whole party reached the top of the hill, where they found Mrs Ramsay, who told them to hurry back with her to the fort. On reaching the gate, they were informed that a large party of Indians had been seen in the far distance, and were still hovering just within sight of the fort. At first it was hoped that they were the hunters returning; but from their numbers and the way they were moving it was suspected that they must be a band of Sioux said to be out on a war-path, and that it was very probable they would attack the fort. The gates were accordingly shut, a drawbridge over a deep cutting in front of them was drawn up, arms and ammunition were placed on the platform inside the stockade, ready for use, and every other preparation made for the reception of the foe. Mr Ramsay urged his little garrison to fight bravely in defence of their wives and children, and the property committed to their charge. For some time the Indians had not approached nearer than when they were first seen, and hopes were entertained that they would not venture on an attack. Mr Ramsay had always endeavoured to avoid hostilities with the natives, and had on several occasions succeeded in gaining over and securing the friendship of those who came with the intention of attacking the fort. Under ordinary circumstances he would have felt confident, even should he be unable by diplomacy to pacify the Indians, of easily keeping them at bay, as the fort was sufficiently strong to resist any ordinary attack. Having, however, now but a very small garrison, and being hard pressed for provisions, he felt more anxious than usual as to the result should the fort be attacked; for of the savage character of the Sioux he had already had too much experience not to know the fearful cruelties they would practise should they gain the victory. He examined every part of the fort, and showed his men those points most likely to be assailed, and which it was necessary to guard with the greatest vigilance. It might, however, have damped their spirits had he told them of the scanty supply of provisions which remained. Still he hoped to hold out till the enemy were driven away, when the expected relief might arrive, or the hunters return with a supply of game.Mrs Ramsay was fully aware of the state of things. She had before been exposed to similar dangers. “We must not faint, dear husband,” she said, “but continue to put our trust in God. He will relieve us if he thinks fit. At all events, let us have faith in His protecting love, and know that He does all for the best.”Several hours passed by, and still the strange Indians did not approach.“There’s a man coming towards the fort,” shouted the look-out from the tower. “He drags himself but slowly over the snow, and appears to be wounded. He is one of our own people,” added the sentinel, in a short time, “and seems to be signing to us to send him assistance.”Mr Ramsay, on hearing this, despatched two of the garrison to bring in the wounded hunter. They lifted him along, looking every now and then behind, as if they expected to be followed. At length they arrived at the gate, but the poor fellow Jaques Venot, was so exhausted from loss of blood that he could not at first speak. On reviving, after his wounds had been bound up, and a cordial given him, he had a sad tale to tell. He and three other hunters were returning to the fort with the flesh of a moose and bear which they had shot, when they were set upon by a band of Sioux. His three companions were shot down, he himself being wounded and taken prisoner by them. Instead of killing him, they led him to their camp, as he supposed, that they might employ him to negotiate with the garrison, and gain their object without the danger of attacking the fort. They knew from experience that in such an exploit many of them would lose their lives.“I found that I was right in my conjectures,” continued Jaques. “I was at once carried before the Sioux leader, who was holding a council of war with several other chiefs, and being placed in their midst, I was asked whether I preferred torture and death to life and liberty. I replied that if they chose to torture me they should see that I could surfer like a man, and that the hunters of the prairies always carried their lives in their hands; but as I had no wish to die, I should be glad to hear on what terms they offered me freedom.”“‘You choose wisely,’ said the chief. ‘Tell us, then, what number of men defend the fort. Are they well armed? Have they a good supply of ammunition? Are there many women and children? And have they an abundance of provisions?’”“I smiled as the chief spoke. ‘You ask many questions,’ I said, ‘but they are not difficult to answer. The fort is strong, and there are men enough within to defend it against twice the number of warriors I see around me, whose bones will whiten the prairie if they make the attempt. There are great guns which can send their shot nearly as far as this camp, and each man has as many rifles as he can fire, while the women and boys load them. As to provisions, the whites are not like the improvident red-skins, who gorge themselves with food one day and starve for many afterwards. I have spoken. What is it you would have me do?’”“The chiefs, on hearing my reply, consulted together. ‘Listen,’ said their leader at length. ‘You will go back to the fort and persuade the white-skins within that we are their friends. We want shelter and food while the snow covers the ground; and if they give us that, we will go forth and fish and hunt for them, and bring them more peltries than they have ever before received in one season.’“‘But if I fail to persuade them, I asked, wishing to learn the designs of the Sioux, what am I then to do?’“‘You will try to win some of the people with such promises as you well know how to make. Tell them they will be received among us as friends, and that we will give them all that their hearts desire. Then wait till our warriors collect around the fort, and seek an opportunity at night to open the gates and admit us. You and those who will thus assist us will gain our friendship, and all you ask shall be given you.’“‘The great Sioux chief speaks wise words,’ I answered. ‘Let me go free, and I’ll do your bidding. I have long served the white-skins, and it is time that I should seek new friends.’ On hearing my reply the chief seemed satisfied.“‘You shall go, then,’ he said; ‘but remember, should you fail to carry out our wishes, you will learn that the Sioux know how to punish those who play them false.’ On this the chief, bidding me hasten to the fort, ordered some of his braves to conduct me through the camp and let me go free.“The Sioux are very numerous,” continued the hunter, “and there are not only warriors, but women and children among them. They have lately received a severe defeat from the Americans, and have been driven from their hunting-grounds, and have vowed vengeance against all white-skins and their friends. They are expecting the arrival of another large band, and I fear that they will fall in with the trails of the other hunters and cut them off. Even should our friends escape them, they will find it difficult to return to the fort.”Laurence, who was present, listened eagerly to what Jaques said, and made several inquiries about the appearance of the Sioux chief and others of his followers. He said nothing, however, but for some time afterwards appeared lost in thought.Night came on. The garrison was kept constantly on the alert. In the far distance the camp-fires of the Indians could be seen blazing up near a wood, under shelter of which they had pitched their skin tents, and where, the snow being of less depth than on the open plain, their horses could more easily get at the grass below it. They on that account had probably chosen the spot, instead of camping nearer the fort.No one during the night was seen to approach, although any object might easily have been distinguished moving across the surrounding white field of snow. It was remarked, however, that the fires had increased in number since they had at first been lighted in the evening, and it was consequently surmised that a fresh body of Sioux had arrived.Frequently during the day Mr Ramsay anxiously looked out from the watch-tower towards the east, in the hopes of seeing the expected train with provisions. He feared, however, that it might be perceived by the Sioux before it could reach the fort. To prevent this, he sent out a couple of scouts to intercept the train, and lead it by a circuitous route to the north, where it could not be seen from the camp of the Sioux.The day went slowly by, and another night came on. Again the distant camp-fires were seen blazing up, showing that the savages had not abandoned their designs. What prevented them from at once attacking the fort it was difficult to say, unless they were better informed with regard to its scanty supply of provisions than Jaques had supposed.Note. In the markets in Canada, not only fish, but animals of all sorts, frozen hard, are brought for sale, and it is curious to see deer and hares and pigs standing in rows, like stuffed animals in a museum, on the market people’s stalls; while fish are placed upright on their tails in the baskets, and look as if they were endeavouring to leap out of them.

The trials to which the inhabitants of the fort were exposed were becoming greater every day. The store of potatoes and other vegetables in the root-house, where they were secured from the frost, deep down below the surface, was rapidly lessening.

Mr Ramsay had lately inspected the meat pit, in which the carcases of the buffaloes and other animals shot during the previous fall were preserved, and found it nearly empty. Meat is preserved in that region in a peculiar manner. A deep pit is dug, and while the frost is still in the air, and the snow covers the ground, all the animals killed are placed in it. The bottom is lined with a coating of snow beaten hard, and then a layer of meat is placed on it. On the top of this more snow is beaten, when an additional layer of meat is placed in the pit, and so on till the whole is full. It is then covered over with snow, and a thickly-thatched roof is erected over it. The meat-cellar, indeed, resembles an English ice-house. The meat thus remains in a fit condition to be eaten throughout the year. Fish is preserved in the same way. During the winter, however, the fish, when caught, become frozen, and can be kept in an open shed.

This year, as we have said, in consequence of the early frost, but a small supply of fish had been caught.

Mr Ramsay was looking out anxiously for the arrival of the expected supplies, but no news of their coming had yet readied him. The hunters had returned unsuccessful from the chase, and had again gone out with the intention of proceeding to a greater distance than before. News came also which caused the small remaining garrison some anxiety. It was reported that, contrary to their usual custom, for they seldom travel during winter, a large body of Sioux had been seen moving northward on a warlike expedition. Although their destination was unknown, it was feared, as they had long threatened to attack the fort, should they discover how small was its present garrison, and how greatly pressed for food, they might put their evil intentions into execution. Mr Ramsay accordingly made every preparation for defence in his power, and few as were the numbers with him, he hoped to repulse the foe. His fears were rather on account of the hunters scattered at a distance from each other, and who, should they fall into the hands of the Sioux, might be cut off in detail. To call them back was now impossible, as, should he send out to search for them, he would have had still further to lessen the number of defenders. Constant watch was kept day and night, and he determined, at all events, not to be taken by surprise.

Meantime Laurence had greatly recovered his strength, and, clad in a warm fur dress, was able to move about, both inside and for a short distance outside the fort.

The chief amusement of the younger portion of the inhabitants was “coasting,” or sliding down the steep side of the hill on which the fort stood seated on small boards placed on runners, called “toboggins.” Descending from the height, the impetus they gained carried them for a considerable distance over the level plain, till they were finally brought up by a heap of snow at the end of a long path they had thus formed. The toboggin was then drawn up to the top of the hill, when the young coaster again went sliding down, followed in succession by his companions, shouting and cheering with delight, especially when any of the toboggins went off the line, and their companions were half-buried in the heap of snow below.

This amusement Laurence infinitely preferred to learning to read the books which Jeanie brought him, although she offered to be his instructress. He would sit, however, very patiently during the long winter evenings while she read to him. He told her frankly that the only books which interested him were those of adventures and hairbreadth escapes in various parts of the world. He listened attentively, however, when she read the Bible, but seemed far more interested in the narratives it contained than in any other portion. Its Divine truths had as yet, it seemed, made no impression on his mind.

“Now, Jeanie, I have been a good boy, and listened with my ears open to all you have been reading about, and I think it is but fair that you in return should come and coast with me to-morrow,” he said one day, after she had read to him for some time. “I have had a beautiful new toboggin made for you, and I am sure it will run faster and straighter than any in the fort.”

“I shall be very glad to come, if mamma will let me, though you are so very bad a scholar that you do not deserve to have your way,” she answered.

“If I promise to learn better in future, will you ask leave to come?” urged Laurence. “I should like to be able to read about the wonderful things you tell me of in your books.”

“If you promise, I’ll ask mamma to let me do as you wish,” answered Jeanie. “But, remember, God hears every word you say, and knows everything you think, and the promise made to me is really made to God, and it will grieve Him if you break it.”

“Oh, but I mean to keep my promise, though I cannot fancy that the Great Spirit cares for what a young boy like me may think or say,” answered Lawrence.

“Oh, yes, yes, He cares for young and old alike,” exclaimed Jeanie. “He tells us that the very hairs of our head are numbered, and He knows every sparrow that falls to the ground. That is to make us understand that He is interested in all we think about, and in even the very smallest thing we do. It always makes me very happy when I reflect that God cares for me, and loves me even more than my father and mother can do, though they love me a great deal, because He is so much more powerful than they are, and He can help me and keep me out of temptation when I am inclined to be naughty, which they, with all their love and interest in me, cannot do.”

“I wish that I could think as you do, Jeanie,” said Laurence. “I must try to do so, though; then you will ask your mamma’s leave to come and coast on the new sleigh?”

“Yes, I will ask her,” said Jeanie. “And you must show that you are in earnest, by trying to say your alphabet this evening. You missed out a great many of the letters yesterday, and I felt ashamed of you.”

Laurence had hitherto made but very slow progress in his studies. His head and eyes ached, he said, whenever he looked at a book, though he really was anxious to learn for the sake of pleasing Jeanie.

Mrs Ramsay did not object to allow Jeanie to try the new sleigh, and the next morning, accompanied by several other girls, she set out in high glee with Mrs Ramsay, who went to look on at the sport. Laurence carried the sleigh on his shoulders, a number of other boys being similarly provided.

Proceeding round outside the fort, they soon reached the steep part of the hill. In another minute, a merry laughing party were gliding down the side, one after the other, with headlong speed, the impetus sending them several hundred yards over the smooth hard surface of the snow beyond. Laurence, who sat in front, guiding Jeanie’s sleigh, was delighted to find that it went further than any of the others. Up the hill again they soon came, the boys carrying the sleighs, and the girls scrambling up by their sides.

Laurence and Jeanie had coasted down the side of the hill, followed by their companions, and had been carried some distance from the fort, when they heard a shout from the watch-tower nearest them. It was repeated again and again in more urgent tones, calling them back to the fort.

“What can it mean?” asked Jeanie. “We must go, at all events; and, see, there’s mamma on the top of the hill beckoning to us.”

Laurence proposed to make another trip, saying he was sure there was no necessity to be in a hurry.

“If we are called, we ought to go, we must go,” said Jeanie. “It would be very wrong to delay a minute.”

Thus urged, Laurence took up the sleigh, and the whole party reached the top of the hill, where they found Mrs Ramsay, who told them to hurry back with her to the fort. On reaching the gate, they were informed that a large party of Indians had been seen in the far distance, and were still hovering just within sight of the fort. At first it was hoped that they were the hunters returning; but from their numbers and the way they were moving it was suspected that they must be a band of Sioux said to be out on a war-path, and that it was very probable they would attack the fort. The gates were accordingly shut, a drawbridge over a deep cutting in front of them was drawn up, arms and ammunition were placed on the platform inside the stockade, ready for use, and every other preparation made for the reception of the foe. Mr Ramsay urged his little garrison to fight bravely in defence of their wives and children, and the property committed to their charge. For some time the Indians had not approached nearer than when they were first seen, and hopes were entertained that they would not venture on an attack. Mr Ramsay had always endeavoured to avoid hostilities with the natives, and had on several occasions succeeded in gaining over and securing the friendship of those who came with the intention of attacking the fort. Under ordinary circumstances he would have felt confident, even should he be unable by diplomacy to pacify the Indians, of easily keeping them at bay, as the fort was sufficiently strong to resist any ordinary attack. Having, however, now but a very small garrison, and being hard pressed for provisions, he felt more anxious than usual as to the result should the fort be attacked; for of the savage character of the Sioux he had already had too much experience not to know the fearful cruelties they would practise should they gain the victory. He examined every part of the fort, and showed his men those points most likely to be assailed, and which it was necessary to guard with the greatest vigilance. It might, however, have damped their spirits had he told them of the scanty supply of provisions which remained. Still he hoped to hold out till the enemy were driven away, when the expected relief might arrive, or the hunters return with a supply of game.

Mrs Ramsay was fully aware of the state of things. She had before been exposed to similar dangers. “We must not faint, dear husband,” she said, “but continue to put our trust in God. He will relieve us if he thinks fit. At all events, let us have faith in His protecting love, and know that He does all for the best.”

Several hours passed by, and still the strange Indians did not approach.

“There’s a man coming towards the fort,” shouted the look-out from the tower. “He drags himself but slowly over the snow, and appears to be wounded. He is one of our own people,” added the sentinel, in a short time, “and seems to be signing to us to send him assistance.”

Mr Ramsay, on hearing this, despatched two of the garrison to bring in the wounded hunter. They lifted him along, looking every now and then behind, as if they expected to be followed. At length they arrived at the gate, but the poor fellow Jaques Venot, was so exhausted from loss of blood that he could not at first speak. On reviving, after his wounds had been bound up, and a cordial given him, he had a sad tale to tell. He and three other hunters were returning to the fort with the flesh of a moose and bear which they had shot, when they were set upon by a band of Sioux. His three companions were shot down, he himself being wounded and taken prisoner by them. Instead of killing him, they led him to their camp, as he supposed, that they might employ him to negotiate with the garrison, and gain their object without the danger of attacking the fort. They knew from experience that in such an exploit many of them would lose their lives.

“I found that I was right in my conjectures,” continued Jaques. “I was at once carried before the Sioux leader, who was holding a council of war with several other chiefs, and being placed in their midst, I was asked whether I preferred torture and death to life and liberty. I replied that if they chose to torture me they should see that I could surfer like a man, and that the hunters of the prairies always carried their lives in their hands; but as I had no wish to die, I should be glad to hear on what terms they offered me freedom.”

“‘You choose wisely,’ said the chief. ‘Tell us, then, what number of men defend the fort. Are they well armed? Have they a good supply of ammunition? Are there many women and children? And have they an abundance of provisions?’”

“I smiled as the chief spoke. ‘You ask many questions,’ I said, ‘but they are not difficult to answer. The fort is strong, and there are men enough within to defend it against twice the number of warriors I see around me, whose bones will whiten the prairie if they make the attempt. There are great guns which can send their shot nearly as far as this camp, and each man has as many rifles as he can fire, while the women and boys load them. As to provisions, the whites are not like the improvident red-skins, who gorge themselves with food one day and starve for many afterwards. I have spoken. What is it you would have me do?’”

“The chiefs, on hearing my reply, consulted together. ‘Listen,’ said their leader at length. ‘You will go back to the fort and persuade the white-skins within that we are their friends. We want shelter and food while the snow covers the ground; and if they give us that, we will go forth and fish and hunt for them, and bring them more peltries than they have ever before received in one season.’

“‘But if I fail to persuade them, I asked, wishing to learn the designs of the Sioux, what am I then to do?’

“‘You will try to win some of the people with such promises as you well know how to make. Tell them they will be received among us as friends, and that we will give them all that their hearts desire. Then wait till our warriors collect around the fort, and seek an opportunity at night to open the gates and admit us. You and those who will thus assist us will gain our friendship, and all you ask shall be given you.’

“‘The great Sioux chief speaks wise words,’ I answered. ‘Let me go free, and I’ll do your bidding. I have long served the white-skins, and it is time that I should seek new friends.’ On hearing my reply the chief seemed satisfied.

“‘You shall go, then,’ he said; ‘but remember, should you fail to carry out our wishes, you will learn that the Sioux know how to punish those who play them false.’ On this the chief, bidding me hasten to the fort, ordered some of his braves to conduct me through the camp and let me go free.

“The Sioux are very numerous,” continued the hunter, “and there are not only warriors, but women and children among them. They have lately received a severe defeat from the Americans, and have been driven from their hunting-grounds, and have vowed vengeance against all white-skins and their friends. They are expecting the arrival of another large band, and I fear that they will fall in with the trails of the other hunters and cut them off. Even should our friends escape them, they will find it difficult to return to the fort.”

Laurence, who was present, listened eagerly to what Jaques said, and made several inquiries about the appearance of the Sioux chief and others of his followers. He said nothing, however, but for some time afterwards appeared lost in thought.

Night came on. The garrison was kept constantly on the alert. In the far distance the camp-fires of the Indians could be seen blazing up near a wood, under shelter of which they had pitched their skin tents, and where, the snow being of less depth than on the open plain, their horses could more easily get at the grass below it. They on that account had probably chosen the spot, instead of camping nearer the fort.

No one during the night was seen to approach, although any object might easily have been distinguished moving across the surrounding white field of snow. It was remarked, however, that the fires had increased in number since they had at first been lighted in the evening, and it was consequently surmised that a fresh body of Sioux had arrived.

Frequently during the day Mr Ramsay anxiously looked out from the watch-tower towards the east, in the hopes of seeing the expected train with provisions. He feared, however, that it might be perceived by the Sioux before it could reach the fort. To prevent this, he sent out a couple of scouts to intercept the train, and lead it by a circuitous route to the north, where it could not be seen from the camp of the Sioux.

The day went slowly by, and another night came on. Again the distant camp-fires were seen blazing up, showing that the savages had not abandoned their designs. What prevented them from at once attacking the fort it was difficult to say, unless they were better informed with regard to its scanty supply of provisions than Jaques had supposed.

Note. In the markets in Canada, not only fish, but animals of all sorts, frozen hard, are brought for sale, and it is curious to see deer and hares and pigs standing in rows, like stuffed animals in a museum, on the market people’s stalls; while fish are placed upright on their tails in the baskets, and look as if they were endeavouring to leap out of them.

Chapter Six.The Indians blockade the fort—Laurence recognises the Sioux as old friends—Obtains leave to go out and meet them—Induces the Sioux chief to retire—Obtains presents for the Indians—Accompanies them—Laurence finds his old nurse—Laurence bids farewell to his friends at the fort.Several days had passed by; the provision sleighs had not arrived; none of the hunters had returned to the fort; and already the garrison were feeling the pangs of hunger. Mr Ramsay had placed the people on the smallest possible allowance of food, and yet, on examining the remaining store, he found to his grief that it could not last many days longer. There were horses and cattle feeding in a sheltered valley some miles away, and had it not been for the besieging bands of Sioux, they might easily have been brought in; and unwilling as he would have been to kill them, they would have afforded an ample supply of food. The fort, however, was narrowly watched, and had any people been sent out to bring in the cattle, they would have been pursued and cut off, or had they succeeded, in getting away, they and the cattle would have been to a still greater certainty captured on their return. Mr Ramsay, therefore, unwilling to risk the lives of any of his people, resolved not to make the attempt till they were reduced to the last extremity. He feared, from the conduct of the Sioux, that they must have become acquainted with the condition of the fort, probably from one of the hunters, who, under torture, might have confessed the state of the case.The early part of the morning had passed quietly away, when a movement was observed in the camp of the Sioux. The white sheet of snow which intervened was soon clotted over with their dark forms as they advanced towards the fort in a long line, extending from east to west, the extreme ends moving at a more rapid rate than the rest, as if they purposed to surround it. On they came, increasing their speed as they drew near, shrieking, and shouting, and frantically brandishing their weapons. Their cries and gestures were terrific in the extreme. They seemed to be working themselves up into a fury, as if preparing to attack the fort, and to destroy the hapless defenders. Mr Ramsay again urged those under his command to die at their posts rather than yield, or to trust to any terms the savages might offer. Mrs Ramsay and her daughter, though pale from hunger, showed no signs of alarm. Their usual morning avocations having been performed, they sat together with the Bible before them, and then kneeling down, with calm confidence offered up their prayers for protection to that merciful God whom they well knew heard all their petitions.Laurence, now perfectly recovered, was on the platform, where most of the garrison were stationed. He there stood, with several guns by his side, prepared to fire on the advancing savages. Mr Ramsay had given orders that not a shot should be discharged till the last moment. Although the men had hitherto shown no lack of courage, when they saw the overwhelming numbers of the expected assailants some of them cried out that it would be impossible to defend the fort against their assaults. Mr Ramsay rebuked them severely, and charged them not again to express such an idea. Their courage, was, however, put to a great test; for the savages, rushing on, fired their rifles, sending showers of bullets rattling against the stockades. Happily, none of the defenders were struck. Still, not a shot was discharged in return, and the savages, surprised at this, instead of continuing to rush on, halted.They had now got so near that even their faces as well as their head-dress, by which the different tribes are distinguished, could clearly be discerned. Mr Ramsay, though unwilling to shed blood, was about to give the order to fire should they again advance, when Laurence exclaimed, “I know them. They are my friends. I am a child of their tribe. They love me; and if I go forth to them, they will listen to what I say.” His whole manner seemed changed. As he spoke, his eye brightened. He looked a different being to the careless boy he had hitherto seemed.“How can you influence them, Laurence?” asked Mr Ramsay. “They are not likely to abandon their designs for anything you can say.”“Oh, yes, yes, I am sure they will,” answered Laurence. “Let me go forth at once. I’ll tell them that you are my father’s friend, that you preserved my life, and that, if they love me as they say, they must not hurt you or any of your people.”“But I am afraid that they will shoot you before they know who you are,” said Mr Ramsay.“Oh, I’ll run the risk,” exclaimed Laurence. “Let me go forth at once, before it is too late. I will tell them how unwilling you were to injure any of them, and that you are good and kind, and wish to be the red man’s friend.”Mr Ramsay, thinking that Laurence might be the means of preserving the fort, no longer opposed his proposal. Laurence, however, agreed to take a white flag in his hand, with the meaning of which most of the tribes accustomed to trade at the forts were well acquainted.Slipping out at a small postern gate, he let himself down into the trench unseen by the Sioux, and climbing up the opposite bank, the next instant was bounding down the slope of the hill, waving his flag. In a few minutes he had reached the chief who had led the assailants. He uttered a few words, and the next moment the savage warrior stood grasping his hands and gazing in his countenance.“My second father, though your child has long been away from you, he has not forgotten you,” he exclaimed; “but he would ere this have been in the world of spirits had not the good white chief, commander of yonder fort, saved his life; and you cannot, knowing this, desire to injure his kind friends. No, my father; you and my brothers promised to be the friend of your son’s friends. I knew you even afar off, and my heart yearned towards you, and I felt sure that you would listen to my prayers. You know not the power and generosity of my white friends. Even at this moment their far-reaching guns are pointed towards you, and had they desired to take your life, they would have fired and laid you and many of my brothers low.”Laurence continued for some minutes in the same strain. The chief seemed troubled. He was unwilling to lose the booty he expected to find in the fort, at the same time that he remembered his promise to his adopted son, and was struck also by what he had said about his white friends.Laurence thus went on eloquently to plead his cause; at the same time, he took care not to acknowledge how unable the garrison were to hold out much longer.“You have conquered, my son,” exclaimed the chief. “I will speak to your brothers; your friends should be our friends. Had blood been shed, our people would have been unwilling to listen to my counsels; but now all will be well. Show the flag you carry, that no one may fire at us as we retire. We will return to our camp, and you will there see many who will welcome you joyfully again among them.”Laurence, rejoiced at the success of his mission, stood waving his flag, while the Sioux retired from around the fort. He then quickly followed, and overtook the chief. Inquiries were made for his father, who had been received into the tribe and long resided among them. Laurence replied that he hoped he would soon return, and that he was sure he would be well pleased to hear that they had refrained from injuring his white friends.On reaching the camp, Laurence was received with warm greetings from his red-skinned brothers and sisters, for he was looked on as a brother by all the tribe. He soon found his way to a lodge in which was seated an old woman with shrivelled features, her long white locks hanging down over her skeleton-like shoulders. No sooner did she see him than, uttering a wild shriek of delight, she seized him in her withered arms, and pressed him to her heart.“My child!” she exclaimed; “and you at length have come back to visit the mother who has been yearning for long years to see you; and you have not forgotten her?”“No, indeed,” answered Laurence; “from the day my white father took me away I have ever thought of you, and recollected the happy times I passed under your care.”“You have come, then, once more to be a brother of our people!” exclaimed his old nurse. “You will not go away again; but you will stay and live in our lodges, and grow up and become a brave hunter of the buffalo and moose, and gladden the eyes of one who loves you better than any white mother.”“I have white friends who love me, and have treated me kindly; I should be loath not to see them again. And there is my white father, who may come for me, and I am bound to follow him,” answered Laurence.“Your white friends and your white father cannot care for you as we do. Your heart cannot be so hardened towards those who brought you up as to wish again to quit them.”Much more his old nurse said in the same strain. Laurence thought of all the kindness he had received from Mrs Ramsay. He was very unwilling also to part from little Jeanie; but old feelings revived within him, the new principles which he had of late heard in the fort had taken no strong hold of him, and he became once more the wild Indian boy of former years.The chief sent for him, and used further powerful arguments to induce him to remain. Laurence at length promised to continue with his old friends, unless his father should claim him; but he begged first to be allowed to go back to the fort to bid farewell to his white friends.The wily Sioux had had no intention of losing altogether the share of the prized articles which he supposed the fort to contain. He consented, therefore, to allow Laurence to return, on condition that he would obtain from the white chief, as he called Mr Ramsay, a certain number of guns, ammunition, blankets, knives, and numerous other things which he named.“If he sends them, we will be his friends; but if not, we shall know that he looks upon us as enemies, and we will take by force what we now only ask as a gift.”Laurence, accompanied by a small band of Sioux, set out as the bearer of this message to the fort. The Indians remained outside while he made his way to the gates. He was welcomed warmly by Mr Ramsay. He was thankful to find that the train with the provisions had arrived, and that several of the hunters had also made their way round by the north into the fort, with two bears and several deer and other animals.Mr Ramsay, notwithstanding this, wishing to establish, if possible, friendly relations with the Sioux, agreed to send the articles the chief demanded as a gift, though he still thought it prudent not to put himself or any of his people in their power.“You and your red-skinned friends who have come with you shall, therefore, convey them to the chief, and you will then return and remain with us. I wish to show you how much I value the service you have rendered us; for had the Sioux assailed the fort—as not only had the provisions, but our ammunition run short—they very probably would have entered and put every one within to death.”Laurence hung down his head. “I should like to remain, sir,” he said, “but I have promised to return, and live with the Sioux, unless my father comes for me. I am at home with them, and know all their ways, and shall become some day, so they say, a great chief among them.”“Their ways, I fear, are bad ways,” said Mr Ramsay. “And though I cannot tell you to break your promise, you will, I am sure, some day grieve bitterly that you made it. However, go in and see Mrs Ramsay and Jeanie. You would not wish to go without bidding them farewell.”“I dare not face them; they might make my heart melt,” answered Laurence, doubting his own resolution; but Mr Ramsay led him to the house.Jeanie burst into tears when she heard of his intentions. “Oh, Laurence, and can you, after you have heard about Jesus, have been told of His love, and how He wishes you to be ready to go and live with Him for ever and ever, in glory and happiness, again go back to dwell among heathen savages, who do all sorts of things contrary to His will, merely for the sake of enjoying what you call liberty for a few short years, and thus risk the loss of your soul?” said Mrs Ramsay, taking him kindly by the hand.“The Sioux, in their dark ignorance, may wish you well, so far as this world is concerned, though the life they would induce you to lead is full of danger and hardships; but here you have friends, who desire not only to benefit your mind and body, but to show you how you may obtain blessings which no earthly power can take away, and which will endure throughout eternity. Think of that, Laurence. Would you barter your soul for the sake of a few years of wild excitement, and what you suppose to be enjoyment, and die as a poor ignorant savage, forgetting God and His mercy and loving-kindness, as shown to us in giving His Son to die for our sins, that we may be received again as favoured children, to live with Him in unspeakable happiness for ever and ever?”“But if I become a warrior, and die bravely fighting, I shall go to the happy hunting-grounds with my Indian friends,” answered Laurence.It was too evident that all which had been said to the poor lad had fallen upon barren ground. Laurence was still a heathen.

Several days had passed by; the provision sleighs had not arrived; none of the hunters had returned to the fort; and already the garrison were feeling the pangs of hunger. Mr Ramsay had placed the people on the smallest possible allowance of food, and yet, on examining the remaining store, he found to his grief that it could not last many days longer. There were horses and cattle feeding in a sheltered valley some miles away, and had it not been for the besieging bands of Sioux, they might easily have been brought in; and unwilling as he would have been to kill them, they would have afforded an ample supply of food. The fort, however, was narrowly watched, and had any people been sent out to bring in the cattle, they would have been pursued and cut off, or had they succeeded, in getting away, they and the cattle would have been to a still greater certainty captured on their return. Mr Ramsay, therefore, unwilling to risk the lives of any of his people, resolved not to make the attempt till they were reduced to the last extremity. He feared, from the conduct of the Sioux, that they must have become acquainted with the condition of the fort, probably from one of the hunters, who, under torture, might have confessed the state of the case.

The early part of the morning had passed quietly away, when a movement was observed in the camp of the Sioux. The white sheet of snow which intervened was soon clotted over with their dark forms as they advanced towards the fort in a long line, extending from east to west, the extreme ends moving at a more rapid rate than the rest, as if they purposed to surround it. On they came, increasing their speed as they drew near, shrieking, and shouting, and frantically brandishing their weapons. Their cries and gestures were terrific in the extreme. They seemed to be working themselves up into a fury, as if preparing to attack the fort, and to destroy the hapless defenders. Mr Ramsay again urged those under his command to die at their posts rather than yield, or to trust to any terms the savages might offer. Mrs Ramsay and her daughter, though pale from hunger, showed no signs of alarm. Their usual morning avocations having been performed, they sat together with the Bible before them, and then kneeling down, with calm confidence offered up their prayers for protection to that merciful God whom they well knew heard all their petitions.

Laurence, now perfectly recovered, was on the platform, where most of the garrison were stationed. He there stood, with several guns by his side, prepared to fire on the advancing savages. Mr Ramsay had given orders that not a shot should be discharged till the last moment. Although the men had hitherto shown no lack of courage, when they saw the overwhelming numbers of the expected assailants some of them cried out that it would be impossible to defend the fort against their assaults. Mr Ramsay rebuked them severely, and charged them not again to express such an idea. Their courage, was, however, put to a great test; for the savages, rushing on, fired their rifles, sending showers of bullets rattling against the stockades. Happily, none of the defenders were struck. Still, not a shot was discharged in return, and the savages, surprised at this, instead of continuing to rush on, halted.

They had now got so near that even their faces as well as their head-dress, by which the different tribes are distinguished, could clearly be discerned. Mr Ramsay, though unwilling to shed blood, was about to give the order to fire should they again advance, when Laurence exclaimed, “I know them. They are my friends. I am a child of their tribe. They love me; and if I go forth to them, they will listen to what I say.” His whole manner seemed changed. As he spoke, his eye brightened. He looked a different being to the careless boy he had hitherto seemed.

“How can you influence them, Laurence?” asked Mr Ramsay. “They are not likely to abandon their designs for anything you can say.”

“Oh, yes, yes, I am sure they will,” answered Laurence. “Let me go forth at once. I’ll tell them that you are my father’s friend, that you preserved my life, and that, if they love me as they say, they must not hurt you or any of your people.”

“But I am afraid that they will shoot you before they know who you are,” said Mr Ramsay.

“Oh, I’ll run the risk,” exclaimed Laurence. “Let me go forth at once, before it is too late. I will tell them how unwilling you were to injure any of them, and that you are good and kind, and wish to be the red man’s friend.”

Mr Ramsay, thinking that Laurence might be the means of preserving the fort, no longer opposed his proposal. Laurence, however, agreed to take a white flag in his hand, with the meaning of which most of the tribes accustomed to trade at the forts were well acquainted.

Slipping out at a small postern gate, he let himself down into the trench unseen by the Sioux, and climbing up the opposite bank, the next instant was bounding down the slope of the hill, waving his flag. In a few minutes he had reached the chief who had led the assailants. He uttered a few words, and the next moment the savage warrior stood grasping his hands and gazing in his countenance.

“My second father, though your child has long been away from you, he has not forgotten you,” he exclaimed; “but he would ere this have been in the world of spirits had not the good white chief, commander of yonder fort, saved his life; and you cannot, knowing this, desire to injure his kind friends. No, my father; you and my brothers promised to be the friend of your son’s friends. I knew you even afar off, and my heart yearned towards you, and I felt sure that you would listen to my prayers. You know not the power and generosity of my white friends. Even at this moment their far-reaching guns are pointed towards you, and had they desired to take your life, they would have fired and laid you and many of my brothers low.”

Laurence continued for some minutes in the same strain. The chief seemed troubled. He was unwilling to lose the booty he expected to find in the fort, at the same time that he remembered his promise to his adopted son, and was struck also by what he had said about his white friends.

Laurence thus went on eloquently to plead his cause; at the same time, he took care not to acknowledge how unable the garrison were to hold out much longer.

“You have conquered, my son,” exclaimed the chief. “I will speak to your brothers; your friends should be our friends. Had blood been shed, our people would have been unwilling to listen to my counsels; but now all will be well. Show the flag you carry, that no one may fire at us as we retire. We will return to our camp, and you will there see many who will welcome you joyfully again among them.”

Laurence, rejoiced at the success of his mission, stood waving his flag, while the Sioux retired from around the fort. He then quickly followed, and overtook the chief. Inquiries were made for his father, who had been received into the tribe and long resided among them. Laurence replied that he hoped he would soon return, and that he was sure he would be well pleased to hear that they had refrained from injuring his white friends.

On reaching the camp, Laurence was received with warm greetings from his red-skinned brothers and sisters, for he was looked on as a brother by all the tribe. He soon found his way to a lodge in which was seated an old woman with shrivelled features, her long white locks hanging down over her skeleton-like shoulders. No sooner did she see him than, uttering a wild shriek of delight, she seized him in her withered arms, and pressed him to her heart.

“My child!” she exclaimed; “and you at length have come back to visit the mother who has been yearning for long years to see you; and you have not forgotten her?”

“No, indeed,” answered Laurence; “from the day my white father took me away I have ever thought of you, and recollected the happy times I passed under your care.”

“You have come, then, once more to be a brother of our people!” exclaimed his old nurse. “You will not go away again; but you will stay and live in our lodges, and grow up and become a brave hunter of the buffalo and moose, and gladden the eyes of one who loves you better than any white mother.”

“I have white friends who love me, and have treated me kindly; I should be loath not to see them again. And there is my white father, who may come for me, and I am bound to follow him,” answered Laurence.

“Your white friends and your white father cannot care for you as we do. Your heart cannot be so hardened towards those who brought you up as to wish again to quit them.”

Much more his old nurse said in the same strain. Laurence thought of all the kindness he had received from Mrs Ramsay. He was very unwilling also to part from little Jeanie; but old feelings revived within him, the new principles which he had of late heard in the fort had taken no strong hold of him, and he became once more the wild Indian boy of former years.

The chief sent for him, and used further powerful arguments to induce him to remain. Laurence at length promised to continue with his old friends, unless his father should claim him; but he begged first to be allowed to go back to the fort to bid farewell to his white friends.

The wily Sioux had had no intention of losing altogether the share of the prized articles which he supposed the fort to contain. He consented, therefore, to allow Laurence to return, on condition that he would obtain from the white chief, as he called Mr Ramsay, a certain number of guns, ammunition, blankets, knives, and numerous other things which he named.

“If he sends them, we will be his friends; but if not, we shall know that he looks upon us as enemies, and we will take by force what we now only ask as a gift.”

Laurence, accompanied by a small band of Sioux, set out as the bearer of this message to the fort. The Indians remained outside while he made his way to the gates. He was welcomed warmly by Mr Ramsay. He was thankful to find that the train with the provisions had arrived, and that several of the hunters had also made their way round by the north into the fort, with two bears and several deer and other animals.

Mr Ramsay, notwithstanding this, wishing to establish, if possible, friendly relations with the Sioux, agreed to send the articles the chief demanded as a gift, though he still thought it prudent not to put himself or any of his people in their power.

“You and your red-skinned friends who have come with you shall, therefore, convey them to the chief, and you will then return and remain with us. I wish to show you how much I value the service you have rendered us; for had the Sioux assailed the fort—as not only had the provisions, but our ammunition run short—they very probably would have entered and put every one within to death.”

Laurence hung down his head. “I should like to remain, sir,” he said, “but I have promised to return, and live with the Sioux, unless my father comes for me. I am at home with them, and know all their ways, and shall become some day, so they say, a great chief among them.”

“Their ways, I fear, are bad ways,” said Mr Ramsay. “And though I cannot tell you to break your promise, you will, I am sure, some day grieve bitterly that you made it. However, go in and see Mrs Ramsay and Jeanie. You would not wish to go without bidding them farewell.”

“I dare not face them; they might make my heart melt,” answered Laurence, doubting his own resolution; but Mr Ramsay led him to the house.

Jeanie burst into tears when she heard of his intentions. “Oh, Laurence, and can you, after you have heard about Jesus, have been told of His love, and how He wishes you to be ready to go and live with Him for ever and ever, in glory and happiness, again go back to dwell among heathen savages, who do all sorts of things contrary to His will, merely for the sake of enjoying what you call liberty for a few short years, and thus risk the loss of your soul?” said Mrs Ramsay, taking him kindly by the hand.

“The Sioux, in their dark ignorance, may wish you well, so far as this world is concerned, though the life they would induce you to lead is full of danger and hardships; but here you have friends, who desire not only to benefit your mind and body, but to show you how you may obtain blessings which no earthly power can take away, and which will endure throughout eternity. Think of that, Laurence. Would you barter your soul for the sake of a few years of wild excitement, and what you suppose to be enjoyment, and die as a poor ignorant savage, forgetting God and His mercy and loving-kindness, as shown to us in giving His Son to die for our sins, that we may be received again as favoured children, to live with Him in unspeakable happiness for ever and ever?”

“But if I become a warrior, and die bravely fighting, I shall go to the happy hunting-grounds with my Indian friends,” answered Laurence.

It was too evident that all which had been said to the poor lad had fallen upon barren ground. Laurence was still a heathen.

Chapter Seven.The life of Laurence among the Indians—Shooting the buffalo—The hunters’ camp and feast—Laurence in the wood—The Sioux hunters shot by Crees—Laurence lies concealed—His first prayer—Passes a fearful night—His encampment attacked by wolves—Journey over the snow—Falls into a snow-drift.Laurence was once more with his Indian friends. They were delighted with the presents they had received, and he found himself treated with respect and attention by all the tribe. A horse and arms were provided for him; he was clothed in a dress of skins, ornamented with feathers and beads, and was looked upon as the son of their chief. Still he could not forget the kindness he had received at the fort, and he very often regretted that he had been persuaded by the Sioux to abandon his white friends. Mr Ramsay would, he knew, inform his father where he had gone, should he return to the fort. He sometimes hoped that the old trapper would come and claim him, although the life he was compelled to lead with him was even harder and more full of danger than his present existence with the Sioux.The tribe had moved to a considerable distance from the fort, where they again took up their winter quarters. Hence they sent out parties of hunters to capture buffalo, which, in small herds, pasture, even while the snow lies on the ground, by digging beneath it to reach the dry grass. Laurence, whose mind was ill at ease, endeavoured to banish thought by joining on every opportunity these expeditions. They were, he knew, full of danger. Sometimes the powerful buffalo would turn on their assailants, and broken limbs and wounds, and not unfrequently death, was the consequence. Snow storms might come on, and before the shelter of a wood could be gained horses and men might be overwhelmed. They were also on the borders of the country of the Crees, the deadly enemies of the Sioux, who would without fail put to death any who might fall into their hands. In the summer, when large herds of buffaloes appear, the hunters, on swift horses, and armed with rifle, or bows and sharp arrows, gallop fearlessly in among them, shooting them down, again managing dexterously to extricate themselves from amid the concourse of animals. Sometimes also a large enclosure is formed with a narrow entrance, and having a road lined with trees leading to it, broad at the outer end, and gradually decreasing in width towards the mouth of the pound. The hunters, forming a wide semicircle in the distance, drive the animals towards it, while people with flags stationed on either side of the road prevent the buffalo breaking through, which are thus induced to rush on till they become entrapped in the pound, where they are shot down with bullets or arrows. In the winter, however, buffaloes can only be approached by stalking, the hunter creeping cautiously on till he gets within range of his victim. Sometimes also a cruel stratagem is employed.Laurence had gone out with three hunters on horseback. They had proceeded a considerable distance without meeting any animals; still, eager to obtain some meat, of which the camp was greatly in want, they pushed onwards. At length they descried, in the far distance to the north, several buffalo feeding near the banks of a broad stream. As they approached, they discovered that they were cows, and had two young buffaloes among them. The wary animals had espied them, and were making slowly off. Each of the hunters carried on his saddle the skin of an animal with the hair on. Laurence had that of a young buffalo calf, as also had one of the others, while the remaining two were provided with skins of wolves. Securing their horses to some trees near the banks of the river, the hunters covered their backs with the skins. Trailing their rifles along the ground, Laurence and his companion with the calf skin cautiously crept towards the buffalo, while the men in wolves’ clothing followed at a distance. As they advanced, the animals stopped to watch them, uncertain what they were. Thus they were enabled to make their way towards the generally cautious monsters of the prairie. The seeming wolves now crept on at faster speed, when the buffaloes, believing that some of their young were in danger of destruction from the savage foes they were accustomed to dread, dashed forward to rescue them. The wolves now hastened on, and made as if they were about to spring on the calves. As the buffaloes rushed up, the hunters sprang to their feet, and firing at the heads of the confiding and faithful animals, brought three of them to the ground. The rest, astonished at finding themselves face to face with human foes, turning round, bellowing with rage, galloped away. The unfortunate animals were quickly despatched with the hunters’ knives. The bodies were then dragged by the horses to the wood which bordered the stream. As much of the meat as the horses could carry was then packed, ready to be transported to the camp the following morning, while the remainder was hung up on the higher branches of the neighbouring trees. The hunters next lighted a fire, putting up a screen of birch bark to keep off the wind, while they sat down to regale themselves on the humps and other prize portions of the animals. Here, while their horses were left to pick up their food from beneath the snow, the hardy hunters purposed, without seek any other shelter, to pass the night.The sky had been for some time overcast, and snow began to fall heavily; but their fire blazed up brightly, and as they sat close round it, enjoying its warmth, they cared little for the thick flakes which passed by them. Steak after steak of the buffalo meat disappeared, as they sat eating and boasting of their deeds of war and the chase, and fully giving themselves up to savage enjoyment.Laurence listened to their tales, wondering whether he should ever perform similar brave deeds. Unaccustomed for so long to the ways of his wild companions, he had soon satisfied his hunger, and in spite of the fire, feeling the cold severely, he had gone a short distance into the wood to bring some large pieces of birch-bark with which he could form an additional shelter for himself, by putting up a small wigwam. Having found the pieces of bark, he was on the point of returning when the sharp report of several rifles rang through the air, and looking towards the fire, he saw two of his companions stretched on the ground, while the other was in vain struggling to rise. A fierce yell followed, and directly afterwards the light of the fire fell on a party of Cree warriors, who came springing out of the darkness towards the spot. He stopped to see no more, but, urged by the instinct of self-preservation, he made his way through the wood till he reached a thick mass of bushes, into the midst of which he threw himself, in the hopes that he might escape the search of the savages. He lay there, expecting every instant to be discovered, and put to death. He could hear the shouts of the victors as they hastily partook of the feast prepared by those they had slaughtered, and having caught their horses, loaded them with the buffalo meat. He judged by the sounds of their voices that his enemies were moving from the spot; and as they got further and further away, he began to entertain the hope of escape. Still fearing that they might come back, he dared not move. He felt very cold and wretched, yet the horror of the scene he had witnessed kept him from going to sleep. Poor Laurence, as he lay there almost frozen to death, not for the first time perhaps repented of his folly in having quitted the protection of his kind friends in the fort. The recollection, too, of the many things Mrs Ramsay and Jeanie had said to him came back to his mind.“I wonder if I was to pray to the great God they told me of, He would take care of me, and lead me back to them,” he thought. “They told me He hears prayers, and would listen to those which so careless and foolish a boy as I have been may make to Him; but then they said I must pray through Jesus Christ; that He is good and merciful, and loves me, and died for me too. I am sure they spoke the truth, for they would not deceive me; and so I’ll pray through Jesus Christ, and ask God to protect me; for I am sure I shall never get back to the camp of the Sioux by myself without my horse, and that, of course, the Crees have carried off.”Poor Laurence did pray with all his heart, ignorant half-heathen that he was in many respects.He soon fell asleep, and the snow came down and nearly covered up the bushes among which he lay. He awoke at length, finding a thick canopy over him, which, had he not been well clothed in furs, would probably have formed his shroud. He easily made his way out.The spot where the fire had been was covered with snow. He could distinguish the bodies of his companions beneath it, but he dared not disturb them. Some of the buffalo meat which the Crees had not discovered still hung on the trees; he loaded himself with as much as he could carry, and then hastened away from the fatal spot. At first he thought of attempting to reach the camp of the Sioux, but it was a long distance off, and all the tracks had disappeared. So had those of the Crees. Should they be on the watch for their enemies, he would very probably fall into their hands. Then, again, the desire to be once more with his friends at the fort came strong upon him; but how could he hope to reach it across miles and miles of snow? It was somewhere away to the north-east, that was all he knew; and although the son was gaining power when the sky was bright, the wind often blew bitterly cold at night. Yet to stay where he was would be certain death, and so the hardy boy, making up his mind to try and reach the fort, and trusting to his strength and courage, began his hazardous journey.He had lived among the Indians long enough to learn something of their cunning; and as he went along he stripped off from his dress all the ornaments and other signs which might show that they had been manufactured by the Sioux, and hid them away in a hole beneath the snow. He had a tinder-box and powder-horn in his pouch, so that he was able to light a fire. As night approached, he made his way towards a wood, near the bank of a stream, where he could procure fuel. Here he built himself a hut with birch-bark, banking it up thickly with snow. He had not forgotten the fate of his companions on the previous night; but he hoped that the Crees were by this time far away, and he knew that, without a fire, he should run the risk of being destroyed by wolves prowling about. He therefore made it inside the hut, where it was also well sheltered from the wind, and he hoped that the light would not be seen at a distance; his chief fear was that, should he sleep too long it might go out. Closing the entrance of his hut with a sheet of bark, he made up his fire, and sat down to sup on a piece of meat which he cooked before it. There was but little space in his hut to allow him to go to sleep without the risk of burning his clothes, though he had drawn himself as far away from it as he could, and leaned back against the wall of the hut. Fatigue at length, however, overcame his desire to keep on the alert.He was awoke by hearing a wild howling around him: he knew the sound full well; it was that of a pack of wolves. His fire had almost gone out; he hurriedly scraped the embers together, and drew in from the front of the hut some fuel which he had kept in store. The voices of the wolves came nearer and nearer. He had just time to light a bundle of sticks when he heard the savage animals close to his hut. He boldly went out and waved his torch around, shouting and shrieking with all his might. The wolves, alarmed at the sudden glare of the light and the sound of a human voice, took to flight. He once more closed the entrance of his hut and sat down. It did not occur to him that it was his duty to return thanks to God for his deliverance. He fancied that it was his cleverness and boldness that had saved him. He had been ready to ask that unknown Great Spirit to preserve him. How many daily receive blessings from the Giver of all good, and yet ungratefully forget to acknowledge them and refuse to do His will!Fear of the wolves prevented Laurence from sleeping soundly, and he started up constantly, expecting to hear their savage howlings.Daylight came at last, and he once more pushed forward over the snow. He had cooked a piece of buffalo meat, which he ate beneath the shelter of a bank, when he saw the sun high in the sky. It restored his strength for a time; but as night again approached he felt far more weary than on the previous day. He built a hut as before, and lighted a fire, and scarcely had he eaten his supper before he dropped off to sleep. He awoke, feeling very cold, though somewhat refreshed; and great was his surprise to find the sun already high in the sky. He had been preserved from danger during the hours of darkness; but, alas! he did not kneel down to pray, but thought only that it was very fortunate the wolves had not come near him, and he hoped to have the same good luck, so he called it, the next night.“I daresay I shall be able to reach the fort, notwithstanding my fears, in a few days,” he said to himself. “I must try to avoid the Crees, though; but I fancy that I am clever enough to do that.”He trudged bravely on, hour after hour. The sky was clear, and the sun enabled him to direct his course with tolerable accuracy. Still his feet, inured though he was to fatigue, felt very weary, and he longed to arrive at the end of his journey. Sometimes he regretted that he had not tried to make his way to the Sioux camp; he might have reached it sooner. No wood was in sight, where he might build his hut and light a fire as usual for the night. He gnawed, as he walked on, a piece of the hard frozen meat, a small portion of which now only remained. Still he was afraid to stop.A level plain, covered with snow, lay before him; he looked around in vain for some sheltering hill or wood. The sun was sinking low on his left. He must try, before darkness set in, to make his way across that wide plain. He did his utmost to exert his remaining strength. Darkness at last came on. He fancied he could distinguish a wood and a range of hills in the distance. He would make a desperate effort to reach it. Suddenly he found himself sinking in the snow. He struggled to get out, but sank lower and lower. He had fallen into a gully or water-course, now filled up by drift-snow. At length, finding his efforts vain, he gave himself up for lost, every moment expecting that the snow wreath would overwhelm him. As he lay there, he could see the stars come out and shine brightly over his head, and thus he knew that there was an opening above him; but he was afraid to move lest he might bring the snow down upon his head. Sheltered from the wind, he felt tolerably warm, and at last, in spite of his perilous position, he fell fast asleep.

Laurence was once more with his Indian friends. They were delighted with the presents they had received, and he found himself treated with respect and attention by all the tribe. A horse and arms were provided for him; he was clothed in a dress of skins, ornamented with feathers and beads, and was looked upon as the son of their chief. Still he could not forget the kindness he had received at the fort, and he very often regretted that he had been persuaded by the Sioux to abandon his white friends. Mr Ramsay would, he knew, inform his father where he had gone, should he return to the fort. He sometimes hoped that the old trapper would come and claim him, although the life he was compelled to lead with him was even harder and more full of danger than his present existence with the Sioux.

The tribe had moved to a considerable distance from the fort, where they again took up their winter quarters. Hence they sent out parties of hunters to capture buffalo, which, in small herds, pasture, even while the snow lies on the ground, by digging beneath it to reach the dry grass. Laurence, whose mind was ill at ease, endeavoured to banish thought by joining on every opportunity these expeditions. They were, he knew, full of danger. Sometimes the powerful buffalo would turn on their assailants, and broken limbs and wounds, and not unfrequently death, was the consequence. Snow storms might come on, and before the shelter of a wood could be gained horses and men might be overwhelmed. They were also on the borders of the country of the Crees, the deadly enemies of the Sioux, who would without fail put to death any who might fall into their hands. In the summer, when large herds of buffaloes appear, the hunters, on swift horses, and armed with rifle, or bows and sharp arrows, gallop fearlessly in among them, shooting them down, again managing dexterously to extricate themselves from amid the concourse of animals. Sometimes also a large enclosure is formed with a narrow entrance, and having a road lined with trees leading to it, broad at the outer end, and gradually decreasing in width towards the mouth of the pound. The hunters, forming a wide semicircle in the distance, drive the animals towards it, while people with flags stationed on either side of the road prevent the buffalo breaking through, which are thus induced to rush on till they become entrapped in the pound, where they are shot down with bullets or arrows. In the winter, however, buffaloes can only be approached by stalking, the hunter creeping cautiously on till he gets within range of his victim. Sometimes also a cruel stratagem is employed.

Laurence had gone out with three hunters on horseback. They had proceeded a considerable distance without meeting any animals; still, eager to obtain some meat, of which the camp was greatly in want, they pushed onwards. At length they descried, in the far distance to the north, several buffalo feeding near the banks of a broad stream. As they approached, they discovered that they were cows, and had two young buffaloes among them. The wary animals had espied them, and were making slowly off. Each of the hunters carried on his saddle the skin of an animal with the hair on. Laurence had that of a young buffalo calf, as also had one of the others, while the remaining two were provided with skins of wolves. Securing their horses to some trees near the banks of the river, the hunters covered their backs with the skins. Trailing their rifles along the ground, Laurence and his companion with the calf skin cautiously crept towards the buffalo, while the men in wolves’ clothing followed at a distance. As they advanced, the animals stopped to watch them, uncertain what they were. Thus they were enabled to make their way towards the generally cautious monsters of the prairie. The seeming wolves now crept on at faster speed, when the buffaloes, believing that some of their young were in danger of destruction from the savage foes they were accustomed to dread, dashed forward to rescue them. The wolves now hastened on, and made as if they were about to spring on the calves. As the buffaloes rushed up, the hunters sprang to their feet, and firing at the heads of the confiding and faithful animals, brought three of them to the ground. The rest, astonished at finding themselves face to face with human foes, turning round, bellowing with rage, galloped away. The unfortunate animals were quickly despatched with the hunters’ knives. The bodies were then dragged by the horses to the wood which bordered the stream. As much of the meat as the horses could carry was then packed, ready to be transported to the camp the following morning, while the remainder was hung up on the higher branches of the neighbouring trees. The hunters next lighted a fire, putting up a screen of birch bark to keep off the wind, while they sat down to regale themselves on the humps and other prize portions of the animals. Here, while their horses were left to pick up their food from beneath the snow, the hardy hunters purposed, without seek any other shelter, to pass the night.

The sky had been for some time overcast, and snow began to fall heavily; but their fire blazed up brightly, and as they sat close round it, enjoying its warmth, they cared little for the thick flakes which passed by them. Steak after steak of the buffalo meat disappeared, as they sat eating and boasting of their deeds of war and the chase, and fully giving themselves up to savage enjoyment.

Laurence listened to their tales, wondering whether he should ever perform similar brave deeds. Unaccustomed for so long to the ways of his wild companions, he had soon satisfied his hunger, and in spite of the fire, feeling the cold severely, he had gone a short distance into the wood to bring some large pieces of birch-bark with which he could form an additional shelter for himself, by putting up a small wigwam. Having found the pieces of bark, he was on the point of returning when the sharp report of several rifles rang through the air, and looking towards the fire, he saw two of his companions stretched on the ground, while the other was in vain struggling to rise. A fierce yell followed, and directly afterwards the light of the fire fell on a party of Cree warriors, who came springing out of the darkness towards the spot. He stopped to see no more, but, urged by the instinct of self-preservation, he made his way through the wood till he reached a thick mass of bushes, into the midst of which he threw himself, in the hopes that he might escape the search of the savages. He lay there, expecting every instant to be discovered, and put to death. He could hear the shouts of the victors as they hastily partook of the feast prepared by those they had slaughtered, and having caught their horses, loaded them with the buffalo meat. He judged by the sounds of their voices that his enemies were moving from the spot; and as they got further and further away, he began to entertain the hope of escape. Still fearing that they might come back, he dared not move. He felt very cold and wretched, yet the horror of the scene he had witnessed kept him from going to sleep. Poor Laurence, as he lay there almost frozen to death, not for the first time perhaps repented of his folly in having quitted the protection of his kind friends in the fort. The recollection, too, of the many things Mrs Ramsay and Jeanie had said to him came back to his mind.

“I wonder if I was to pray to the great God they told me of, He would take care of me, and lead me back to them,” he thought. “They told me He hears prayers, and would listen to those which so careless and foolish a boy as I have been may make to Him; but then they said I must pray through Jesus Christ; that He is good and merciful, and loves me, and died for me too. I am sure they spoke the truth, for they would not deceive me; and so I’ll pray through Jesus Christ, and ask God to protect me; for I am sure I shall never get back to the camp of the Sioux by myself without my horse, and that, of course, the Crees have carried off.”

Poor Laurence did pray with all his heart, ignorant half-heathen that he was in many respects.

He soon fell asleep, and the snow came down and nearly covered up the bushes among which he lay. He awoke at length, finding a thick canopy over him, which, had he not been well clothed in furs, would probably have formed his shroud. He easily made his way out.

The spot where the fire had been was covered with snow. He could distinguish the bodies of his companions beneath it, but he dared not disturb them. Some of the buffalo meat which the Crees had not discovered still hung on the trees; he loaded himself with as much as he could carry, and then hastened away from the fatal spot. At first he thought of attempting to reach the camp of the Sioux, but it was a long distance off, and all the tracks had disappeared. So had those of the Crees. Should they be on the watch for their enemies, he would very probably fall into their hands. Then, again, the desire to be once more with his friends at the fort came strong upon him; but how could he hope to reach it across miles and miles of snow? It was somewhere away to the north-east, that was all he knew; and although the son was gaining power when the sky was bright, the wind often blew bitterly cold at night. Yet to stay where he was would be certain death, and so the hardy boy, making up his mind to try and reach the fort, and trusting to his strength and courage, began his hazardous journey.

He had lived among the Indians long enough to learn something of their cunning; and as he went along he stripped off from his dress all the ornaments and other signs which might show that they had been manufactured by the Sioux, and hid them away in a hole beneath the snow. He had a tinder-box and powder-horn in his pouch, so that he was able to light a fire. As night approached, he made his way towards a wood, near the bank of a stream, where he could procure fuel. Here he built himself a hut with birch-bark, banking it up thickly with snow. He had not forgotten the fate of his companions on the previous night; but he hoped that the Crees were by this time far away, and he knew that, without a fire, he should run the risk of being destroyed by wolves prowling about. He therefore made it inside the hut, where it was also well sheltered from the wind, and he hoped that the light would not be seen at a distance; his chief fear was that, should he sleep too long it might go out. Closing the entrance of his hut with a sheet of bark, he made up his fire, and sat down to sup on a piece of meat which he cooked before it. There was but little space in his hut to allow him to go to sleep without the risk of burning his clothes, though he had drawn himself as far away from it as he could, and leaned back against the wall of the hut. Fatigue at length, however, overcame his desire to keep on the alert.

He was awoke by hearing a wild howling around him: he knew the sound full well; it was that of a pack of wolves. His fire had almost gone out; he hurriedly scraped the embers together, and drew in from the front of the hut some fuel which he had kept in store. The voices of the wolves came nearer and nearer. He had just time to light a bundle of sticks when he heard the savage animals close to his hut. He boldly went out and waved his torch around, shouting and shrieking with all his might. The wolves, alarmed at the sudden glare of the light and the sound of a human voice, took to flight. He once more closed the entrance of his hut and sat down. It did not occur to him that it was his duty to return thanks to God for his deliverance. He fancied that it was his cleverness and boldness that had saved him. He had been ready to ask that unknown Great Spirit to preserve him. How many daily receive blessings from the Giver of all good, and yet ungratefully forget to acknowledge them and refuse to do His will!

Fear of the wolves prevented Laurence from sleeping soundly, and he started up constantly, expecting to hear their savage howlings.

Daylight came at last, and he once more pushed forward over the snow. He had cooked a piece of buffalo meat, which he ate beneath the shelter of a bank, when he saw the sun high in the sky. It restored his strength for a time; but as night again approached he felt far more weary than on the previous day. He built a hut as before, and lighted a fire, and scarcely had he eaten his supper before he dropped off to sleep. He awoke, feeling very cold, though somewhat refreshed; and great was his surprise to find the sun already high in the sky. He had been preserved from danger during the hours of darkness; but, alas! he did not kneel down to pray, but thought only that it was very fortunate the wolves had not come near him, and he hoped to have the same good luck, so he called it, the next night.

“I daresay I shall be able to reach the fort, notwithstanding my fears, in a few days,” he said to himself. “I must try to avoid the Crees, though; but I fancy that I am clever enough to do that.”

He trudged bravely on, hour after hour. The sky was clear, and the sun enabled him to direct his course with tolerable accuracy. Still his feet, inured though he was to fatigue, felt very weary, and he longed to arrive at the end of his journey. Sometimes he regretted that he had not tried to make his way to the Sioux camp; he might have reached it sooner. No wood was in sight, where he might build his hut and light a fire as usual for the night. He gnawed, as he walked on, a piece of the hard frozen meat, a small portion of which now only remained. Still he was afraid to stop.

A level plain, covered with snow, lay before him; he looked around in vain for some sheltering hill or wood. The sun was sinking low on his left. He must try, before darkness set in, to make his way across that wide plain. He did his utmost to exert his remaining strength. Darkness at last came on. He fancied he could distinguish a wood and a range of hills in the distance. He would make a desperate effort to reach it. Suddenly he found himself sinking in the snow. He struggled to get out, but sank lower and lower. He had fallen into a gully or water-course, now filled up by drift-snow. At length, finding his efforts vain, he gave himself up for lost, every moment expecting that the snow wreath would overwhelm him. As he lay there, he could see the stars come out and shine brightly over his head, and thus he knew that there was an opening above him; but he was afraid to move lest he might bring the snow down upon his head. Sheltered from the wind, he felt tolerably warm, and at last, in spite of his perilous position, he fell fast asleep.

Chapter Eight.Laurence in the snow—Discovered by Crees—Rescued—Conveyed to the chief’s tent—Kindness of the old chief—Escorted to the fort—Fears as to his reception—Kindly welcomed by Mr Ramsay—Laurence again falls sick—Mrs Ramsay explains the gospel to him—Laurence begins to understand it.Daylight came again. Laurence, on opening his eyes, found himself surrounded by a high wall of snow. He was hungry, but he had consumed every particle of food. His strength was almost gone. He somewhat assuaged his thirst by eating a little snow, though that gave him but momentary relief. Again he made an attempt to get out, hoping by beating down the snow to form steps in the side of the wall up which he might climb, but the snow came sliding down in vast masses upon him, and by the time he had struggled out of it he felt so weak that he was unable to make any further effort. With a cry of despair he fell back on the heap which had been formed by the snow slipping down, and out of which he had just made his way. For some minutes he was unconscious. Then the barking of dogs once more aroused him. The sound of human voices struck his ear. He listened with breathless anxiety to hear the language they spoke. They drew near. “I am lost if they find me,” he said to himself. “They are Crees.” Directly afterwards, several dogs poked their noses over the edge of the pit and barked to attract the attention of their masters. He waited, expecting in a few minutes to be put to death. Then, casting his eyes upwards, he saw the faces of two savages looking down upon him. He knew them at once to be Crees. He tried to speak—not to ask their pity, for that he believed would be useless, but, after the Indian fashion, to dare them to do their worst. His tongue, however, refused its office. Presently he saw them beginning to scrape away the snow; and as they commenced at the top, they were soon able to form some rough steps in the side of the pit, down which one of them descended. Laurence closed his eyes, expecting to have the scalp cut from his head. Instead of that the Cree lifted him in his arms, and, with the assistance of his companion, soon brought him to the surface. Making a wide circuit, to avoid the gully, together they bore him across the plain. They were directing their course towards some lodges which were erected close to a wood, and under the shelter of a high hill. On reviving, Laurence found himself in a large roomy hut, by the side of a fire, near which sat a tall Indian somewhat advanced in years. A squaw was chafing his feet, while another, bending over the fire, was cooking a mess of broth. She soon came round to him, and poured some of the warm mixture down his throat, which greatly revived him. He tried to sit up, but again fell back on the pile of skins on which his head had been resting.“Do not try to move, young pale face,” said the chief. “Your strength has gone for a while, but the Great Spirit will soon restore it. You shall then tell me whence you come, and how you happened to be where my sons found you. We are friends of the pale faces, and would gladly aid you to the best of our power.”These words greatly revived Laurence’s spirits. The chief, however, insisted on not letting him speak until he had taken some rest. The kind squaw had put on his feet some warm dry socks, and then began chafing his hands, and in a short time he again fell asleep.When Laurence awoke there was no one in the tent. This gave him time to consider what he should say. He would speak truly, and tell the Cree chief that he wished to make his way to the fort, and would be grateful to him if he would assist him in reaching it. He soon found, however, when he attempted to rise, that he was utterly unable to do so. The chief smiled when he heard his account.“You speak but partly the truth,” he said. “Still, you are a pale face, and I regard the pale faces with affection. When you are restored to strength I’ll conduct you thither; for it is some way off, and unaided, without horses, or weapons to defend yourself or obtain food, you would not have been able to find your way there. I know with whom you have been, though you have pulled off the ornaments. That dress was manufactured by the Sioux. However, though you were foolish to consort with such people, you are wisely making your escape from them. So speak no more about it.”Laurence felt ashamed of himself at having been so easily detected. He at once acknowledged that the chief was right in his conjectures.For several days he was kept in the tent of the friendly chief, and treated by his squaws as if he had been a son. When he had sufficiently recovered to sit on horseback, the chief, covering him with a thick cloak of furs, set out with a party of his people towards the fort. Even although they formed a strong party, as it was possible that bands of Sioux might attack them, scouts were sent out in all directions to feel their way as they advanced.In what a wretched state is man who knows not God, and loves not the Saviour! Instead of peace, goodwill, and friendly intercourse existing in that savage land, every man’s hand is against his neighbour, and in each stranger he expects to find a foe.The party, however, reached the neighbourhood of the fort without meeting any enemies. Laurence had left his friends, proud of his recovered strength, and fancying that he was about to enjoy the liberty of a savage life. He was now returning sick and weak, and a feeling of shame and doubt of the reception he might meet with stole over him. He kept behind the chief and his party, and hung down his head as they drew near the gates. They were recognised from the fort, and several of the garrison came out to give them a friendly greeting.The old chief related how his sons had found and rescued the white-skin boy, and Laurence was brought forward just as Mr Ramsay, followed by his wife and daughter, appeared from their house. Jeanie recognised him in a moment, and running forward, took his hand, exclaiming, “Oh, Laurence, is it you? I am so glad you have come back. We all thought harm would befall you among those savage Sioux. You look pale and ill. Oh papa! mamma! it is Laurence,” she added, looking towards her parents, who were advancing.Laurence was silent. It was so long since he had spoken English that he could not for some seconds find words to express himself. Mr Ramsay warmly shook him by the hand, and his wife welcomed him with the same cordiality, while not a syllable of reproach did they utter.“He does indeed look ill,” said Mrs Ramsay. “Come to the house, my poor boy,” she said. “Your old room shall be prepared for you, and you can tell us all that has happened by-and-by.”Laurence burst into tears. The reception he met with was so different from what he had expected that it overcame him. He had borne up during the journey, but his strength now gave way; and he required almost the same attention and care that he had before received.“I was indeed wicked and foolish in choosing to go and live with my old savage friends, instead of remaining with you, good Christian people, who are so kind to me,” he said at length to Mrs Ramsay, as she sat by his bedside. “Can you forgive me?”“Yes, indeed we can; and we are very thankful that you have been brought back to us,” she answered. “God himself shows that we ought to receive those who have done wrong when they repent and desire to return to the right way. He himself in His mercy is always thus ready to receive repentant sinners who desire to be reconciled to Him. I’ll read to you the parable of the prodigal son, and you will then understand how God the Father, as He in His goodness allows us to call Him, receives all His children who come back to Him, acknowledging their sins and transgressions. He not only does this, but He has pointed out a way by which the sinner can be reconciled to Him, and have all his sins completely blotted out, or put out of remembrance and done away with. That way is by simple faith in the atoning blood of Jesus; in other words, God desires us to believe that Jesus, His own well-beloved Son, pure and holy and sinless, became man, and was punished by death on the cross instead of us; and thus His justice, which can by no means overlook or forgive sin, is perfectly satisfied with that punishment, and He considers the debt we owe Him fully paid. Can you understand this, Laurence?”“I will try to do so,” answered the boy. “But I do not understand it yet.”“Then you must pray for the aid of God’s Holy Spirit to enable you to understand it; for He alone has the power of doing that. All that one person can do for others is simply to explain the truth to them, and to read God’s Word to them, or urge them to read it if they can. You, Laurence, must learn to read it without delay.”“Oh, yes, I will try now,” he said, “if you and Jeanie will teach me. I was very idle before.”“That we will gladly,” answered Mrs Ramsay. “But, recollect, you must not only try to read, but you must ask God’s Holy Spirit to enable you to understand it also. It is not sufficient to know that Christ died on the cross to reconcile sinners to God; but you must believe that He died for you, and to reconcile you to God; for without that, whatever you may do or profess, you are still in your sins, an outcast from God, and deserving, as you will assuredly receive, punishment for your sins.”“Tell me, Mrs Ramsay, how am I to believe that Christ died for me? I feel that I am wicked, and very unlike what you, and Mr Ramsay, and Jeanie are, who are Christians; but I cannot think that the Son of God should have suffered death for a poor miserable boy like me.”“It’s very simple. God does not give us a very difficult task,” answered Mrs Ramsay. “All He requires of us is to take Him at His word: ‘God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ You understand, Laurence, that God does not say, only people who have have been generally well behaved, and are supposed to be good, butwhosoever, which includes every human being, however bad and abandoned they may have been. The prodigal son had been very ungrateful and very wicked, but his father received him as soon as he came back. That parable was told by Christ himself, to show that His Father in heaven gladly receives all sinners returning to Him. When God says, ‘He so loved the world,’ He means the people in the world, and we know that the world lies in wickedness. Oh, trust God, for He is loving and merciful, and without doubt or fear accept His offers of reconciliation.”

Daylight came again. Laurence, on opening his eyes, found himself surrounded by a high wall of snow. He was hungry, but he had consumed every particle of food. His strength was almost gone. He somewhat assuaged his thirst by eating a little snow, though that gave him but momentary relief. Again he made an attempt to get out, hoping by beating down the snow to form steps in the side of the wall up which he might climb, but the snow came sliding down in vast masses upon him, and by the time he had struggled out of it he felt so weak that he was unable to make any further effort. With a cry of despair he fell back on the heap which had been formed by the snow slipping down, and out of which he had just made his way. For some minutes he was unconscious. Then the barking of dogs once more aroused him. The sound of human voices struck his ear. He listened with breathless anxiety to hear the language they spoke. They drew near. “I am lost if they find me,” he said to himself. “They are Crees.” Directly afterwards, several dogs poked their noses over the edge of the pit and barked to attract the attention of their masters. He waited, expecting in a few minutes to be put to death. Then, casting his eyes upwards, he saw the faces of two savages looking down upon him. He knew them at once to be Crees. He tried to speak—not to ask their pity, for that he believed would be useless, but, after the Indian fashion, to dare them to do their worst. His tongue, however, refused its office. Presently he saw them beginning to scrape away the snow; and as they commenced at the top, they were soon able to form some rough steps in the side of the pit, down which one of them descended. Laurence closed his eyes, expecting to have the scalp cut from his head. Instead of that the Cree lifted him in his arms, and, with the assistance of his companion, soon brought him to the surface. Making a wide circuit, to avoid the gully, together they bore him across the plain. They were directing their course towards some lodges which were erected close to a wood, and under the shelter of a high hill. On reviving, Laurence found himself in a large roomy hut, by the side of a fire, near which sat a tall Indian somewhat advanced in years. A squaw was chafing his feet, while another, bending over the fire, was cooking a mess of broth. She soon came round to him, and poured some of the warm mixture down his throat, which greatly revived him. He tried to sit up, but again fell back on the pile of skins on which his head had been resting.

“Do not try to move, young pale face,” said the chief. “Your strength has gone for a while, but the Great Spirit will soon restore it. You shall then tell me whence you come, and how you happened to be where my sons found you. We are friends of the pale faces, and would gladly aid you to the best of our power.”

These words greatly revived Laurence’s spirits. The chief, however, insisted on not letting him speak until he had taken some rest. The kind squaw had put on his feet some warm dry socks, and then began chafing his hands, and in a short time he again fell asleep.

When Laurence awoke there was no one in the tent. This gave him time to consider what he should say. He would speak truly, and tell the Cree chief that he wished to make his way to the fort, and would be grateful to him if he would assist him in reaching it. He soon found, however, when he attempted to rise, that he was utterly unable to do so. The chief smiled when he heard his account.

“You speak but partly the truth,” he said. “Still, you are a pale face, and I regard the pale faces with affection. When you are restored to strength I’ll conduct you thither; for it is some way off, and unaided, without horses, or weapons to defend yourself or obtain food, you would not have been able to find your way there. I know with whom you have been, though you have pulled off the ornaments. That dress was manufactured by the Sioux. However, though you were foolish to consort with such people, you are wisely making your escape from them. So speak no more about it.”

Laurence felt ashamed of himself at having been so easily detected. He at once acknowledged that the chief was right in his conjectures.

For several days he was kept in the tent of the friendly chief, and treated by his squaws as if he had been a son. When he had sufficiently recovered to sit on horseback, the chief, covering him with a thick cloak of furs, set out with a party of his people towards the fort. Even although they formed a strong party, as it was possible that bands of Sioux might attack them, scouts were sent out in all directions to feel their way as they advanced.

In what a wretched state is man who knows not God, and loves not the Saviour! Instead of peace, goodwill, and friendly intercourse existing in that savage land, every man’s hand is against his neighbour, and in each stranger he expects to find a foe.

The party, however, reached the neighbourhood of the fort without meeting any enemies. Laurence had left his friends, proud of his recovered strength, and fancying that he was about to enjoy the liberty of a savage life. He was now returning sick and weak, and a feeling of shame and doubt of the reception he might meet with stole over him. He kept behind the chief and his party, and hung down his head as they drew near the gates. They were recognised from the fort, and several of the garrison came out to give them a friendly greeting.

The old chief related how his sons had found and rescued the white-skin boy, and Laurence was brought forward just as Mr Ramsay, followed by his wife and daughter, appeared from their house. Jeanie recognised him in a moment, and running forward, took his hand, exclaiming, “Oh, Laurence, is it you? I am so glad you have come back. We all thought harm would befall you among those savage Sioux. You look pale and ill. Oh papa! mamma! it is Laurence,” she added, looking towards her parents, who were advancing.

Laurence was silent. It was so long since he had spoken English that he could not for some seconds find words to express himself. Mr Ramsay warmly shook him by the hand, and his wife welcomed him with the same cordiality, while not a syllable of reproach did they utter.

“He does indeed look ill,” said Mrs Ramsay. “Come to the house, my poor boy,” she said. “Your old room shall be prepared for you, and you can tell us all that has happened by-and-by.”

Laurence burst into tears. The reception he met with was so different from what he had expected that it overcame him. He had borne up during the journey, but his strength now gave way; and he required almost the same attention and care that he had before received.

“I was indeed wicked and foolish in choosing to go and live with my old savage friends, instead of remaining with you, good Christian people, who are so kind to me,” he said at length to Mrs Ramsay, as she sat by his bedside. “Can you forgive me?”

“Yes, indeed we can; and we are very thankful that you have been brought back to us,” she answered. “God himself shows that we ought to receive those who have done wrong when they repent and desire to return to the right way. He himself in His mercy is always thus ready to receive repentant sinners who desire to be reconciled to Him. I’ll read to you the parable of the prodigal son, and you will then understand how God the Father, as He in His goodness allows us to call Him, receives all His children who come back to Him, acknowledging their sins and transgressions. He not only does this, but He has pointed out a way by which the sinner can be reconciled to Him, and have all his sins completely blotted out, or put out of remembrance and done away with. That way is by simple faith in the atoning blood of Jesus; in other words, God desires us to believe that Jesus, His own well-beloved Son, pure and holy and sinless, became man, and was punished by death on the cross instead of us; and thus His justice, which can by no means overlook or forgive sin, is perfectly satisfied with that punishment, and He considers the debt we owe Him fully paid. Can you understand this, Laurence?”

“I will try to do so,” answered the boy. “But I do not understand it yet.”

“Then you must pray for the aid of God’s Holy Spirit to enable you to understand it; for He alone has the power of doing that. All that one person can do for others is simply to explain the truth to them, and to read God’s Word to them, or urge them to read it if they can. You, Laurence, must learn to read it without delay.”

“Oh, yes, I will try now,” he said, “if you and Jeanie will teach me. I was very idle before.”

“That we will gladly,” answered Mrs Ramsay. “But, recollect, you must not only try to read, but you must ask God’s Holy Spirit to enable you to understand it also. It is not sufficient to know that Christ died on the cross to reconcile sinners to God; but you must believe that He died for you, and to reconcile you to God; for without that, whatever you may do or profess, you are still in your sins, an outcast from God, and deserving, as you will assuredly receive, punishment for your sins.”

“Tell me, Mrs Ramsay, how am I to believe that Christ died for me? I feel that I am wicked, and very unlike what you, and Mr Ramsay, and Jeanie are, who are Christians; but I cannot think that the Son of God should have suffered death for a poor miserable boy like me.”

“It’s very simple. God does not give us a very difficult task,” answered Mrs Ramsay. “All He requires of us is to take Him at His word: ‘God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ You understand, Laurence, that God does not say, only people who have have been generally well behaved, and are supposed to be good, butwhosoever, which includes every human being, however bad and abandoned they may have been. The prodigal son had been very ungrateful and very wicked, but his father received him as soon as he came back. That parable was told by Christ himself, to show that His Father in heaven gladly receives all sinners returning to Him. When God says, ‘He so loved the world,’ He means the people in the world, and we know that the world lies in wickedness. Oh, trust God, for He is loving and merciful, and without doubt or fear accept His offers of reconciliation.”

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