“Can you?”
“Never fear.”
And we exchanged paddles, as she sat in one end of the canoe and I in the other, by throwing them diagonally at each other as if we were passing a shuttle-cock. She almost screamed with delight, and in her enthusiasm addressed me in her native Indian language.
“Gaelic,” said I, “give me Gaelic, dear, for I am very simple and very innocent.”
“Oh, very,” she said, and as she dropped her paddle into the water, managed to give me the benefit of a spoonful in the eyes.
After we had tried several evolutions with the canoe, and had proceeded homeward a short distance, we opened a miniature bay into which we leisurely paddled, until we arrived at its head, where a small waterfall of about forty feet in height poured its tributary stream into the lake. On the right-hand side, which was nearest to the house, was a narrow strip of verdant intervale, dotted here and there with vast shady beeches and elms. I never saw a more lovely spot. Hills rose above each other beyond the waterfall, like buttresses to support the conical one that, though not in itself a mountain (for there is not, strictly speaking, one in this province), yet loomed as large in the light mist that enveloped its lofty peak. As this high cliff rose abruptly from the lake, the light of smaller cascades was discernible through the thin shrubbery that clothed its rocky side, although their voice was drowned in the roar of that at its base.
Nothing was said by either of us for some time, for both were occupied by different thoughts. I was charmed with its extraordinary beauty, and wondered how it was possible that it should be so little known as not even to have a name. My companion, on the other hand, was engaged in sad reflections, which the similarity of the scene with her early recollections of her home in the far west suggested to her mind.
“Ain’t this beautiful, Jessie?” I said, “don’t this remind you of Canada, or rather your own country?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, “me—me,” for during the whole day there had been a sad confusion of languages and idioms, “me very happy and very sad; I want to laugh, I want to cry; I am here and there,” pointing to the north-west. “Laughing, talking, sporting with my father, and Jane, and you, and am also by the side of my dear mother, far—far beyond those hills. I see your people and my people; I paddle in our canoe, shoot with our bows, speak our language; yes, I am here, and there also. The sun too is in both places. He sees us all. When I die, perhaps I shall go back, but I am not of them or of you—I am nothing,” and she burst into tears and wept bitterly.
“Jessie,” said I, “let us talk about something else; you have been too much excited this morning, let us enjoy what God gives us, and not be ungrateful; let your sister come also, and try the canoe once more. This is better than a hot room, ain’t it?”