“You are a good Indian, I am sure,” said Lily, looking up at him with more confidence in her manner than she had before shown.

“I wish to become so,” he said, smiling. “I have learned to love the Great Spirit, and wish to obey him. But it is time for you to return home. Wait until I have secured the flesh of the deer, and then I will accompany you.”

Kepenau quickly cut up the animal, and fastened the more valuable portion’s to the bough of a tree—out of the reach of the wolves—by means of some lithe creepers which grew at hand; then loading himself with as much of the venison as he could conveniently carry, he said, “We will move on.”

Having accompanied us to the edge of the forest, he bade us farewell. “Should there be more wolves in the forest, they will not follow you further than this,” he said; “but if they do, remember that it will be better to sacrifice some of the venison, than to allow them to overtake you. Throw them a small bit at a time; and as in all likelihood they will stop to quarrel over it, you will thus have time to escape.”

I remembered the Indian’s advice, although we did not need to practise it on this occasion.

We reached home before dark, and greatly surprised Aunt Hannah with the present of venison. She had, she told us, been very anxious at our prolonged absence.

Chapter Two.

Greenford settlement—The flying squirrels—Mike Laffan and Tom Quambo—Their dogs, Yelp and Snap—A raccoon-hunt—Mike having seen a bear, we go in chase—Our dogs scent Bruin—Quambo in danger—The bear is killed, and Quambo released—We return to the hut—The logging bee—Uncle Stephen’s house—Indian summer—Mike Laffan’s Cremona—The night attack of the wolves—We determine to go lumbering for the winter—Mike and I go on ahead—Uncle Mark is attacked by a wolf—Mike saves him, and we proceed onwards.