en wrenched
off their stumps by some irresistible power seizing the branched heads
and hurling them to the earth. Torn up by the massy roots, or twisted
round as you would try to break an obstinately tough withe, for many
score of acres the wildest confusion of prostrate maples and elms
and pines, heaped upon one another, locked in death-embraces, quite
obliterated any track, and blocked across the country. Arthur had come
upon what French Canadians call a 'renverse' effected by some partial
whirlwind during the preceding summer.

Such tornadoes often crash a road of destruction through the bush for
miles; a path narrow in comparison with its length, and reminding the
traveller of the explosive fury of some vast projectile. The track of
one has been observable for more than forty miles right through the
heart of uninhabited forest.

To cross the stupendous barrier seemed impossible to Arthur. There was
a tangled chaos of interlaced and withering boughs and trunks; such a
_chevaux de frise_ might stop a regiment until some slow sap cut a path
through, and he was without axe, or even a large knife. He must work his
way round; and yet he was most unwilling to part company with the blaze.

While hesitating, and rather ruefully contemplating the obstacle, a
sound at a considerable distance struck his ear. It was--oh, joy!--the
blows of an axe. Instantly he went in the direction. When near enough to
be heard, he shouted. An answering hail came from the other side of the
windfall; but presently he saw that an attempt had been made to log up
the fallen timber in heaps, and, making his way through the blackened
stumps of extinct fires, he reached the spot where two rough-looking men
were at work with handspikes and axes.

They had built a little hut, whence a faint smoke curled, the back wall
of piled logs still wearing dead branches and foliage at the ends. A
reddish cur, as lawless-looking as his masters, rushed from the doorway
to snap at Arthur's heels. The suspicious glances of the foresters bore
hardly more welcome, till they heard that the stranger belonged to the
settlers on Cedar Pond, and had simply lost his way. They informed him
in return, with exceeding frankness, that they were squatters, taking
possession of this strip of bush without anybody's leave, and determined
to hold their own against all comers. An apparently well-used rifle
lying against a log close by gave this speech considerable emphasis.

Arthur