contemplated with an impassive countenance the
construction of a canoe at a little distance by two red men and their
squaws. Andy paused and looked on likewise.

One woman was stripping a large white birch of its bark with a sharp
knife; she scraped away the internal coating as a tanner would scrape
leather, and laid the pieces before the other squaw, whose business
was to stitch them together with bast. The men meanwhile prepared a
sausage-shaped framework of very thin cedar ribs, tying every point of
junction with firm knots; for the aforesaid bast is to the Indian what
glue and nails are to the civilised workman.

'Throth, only for the birch threes I dunno what they'd do; for out of
it's skin they make houses, an' boats, an' pots to bile vittles, an'
candles to burn, an' ornaments like what Mr. Robert has above.' A pause,
as he watched the bark turned over the ribs, and wedge-shaped pieces
cut out to prevent awkward foldings near the gunwale--all carried on in
solemn silence. 'Well, there's no manner of doubt but savages are great
intirely at houldin' their tongues; sure, may be it's no wondher, an'
their langidge the quare sort it is, that they don't want to spake to
each other but as little as they can help.'

Here the nearest Indian raised his head, and appeared to listen to a
distant sound; a low word or two attracted the attention of the others,
who also listened, and exchanged a few sentences, with a glance at Andy,
whose curiosity was roused; and he asked, chiefly by signs, what it was
all about.

'Oxen--waggon,' was the reply; 'me hear driver. White man no have long
ears.'

Andy fled with precipitation to his neglected duties, while the red men
laughed their low quiet laugh, knowing that the waggon they heard could
not reach Cedar Creek in less than an hour.

But at last it came. At last Linda, pressing eagerly forward upon
Robert's arm, had caught a first glimpse of their cottage home, and
exclaimed, 'O Bob, how pretty! Why, you told me it was a rough sort
of a place; how very pretty!'

'Well, you can't deny that the _place_ is rough,' said he, after a
pause of much satisfaction; 'look at the log-heaps--as tangled as a
lady's work-basket.'

'Never mind the log-heaps; the house is neat enough for a picture; and
the view! what a lovely placid lake! what islands! what grand woods!'

Linda's speech was nothing but interjections of admiration for the next
half-hour; she _would_ be charmed with every ha