tor."

"I am very sure my father would not do that, or my mother or sister
either, or Sybil. They'll make a good deal of you, I can tell you; for
it is not often they see a gentleman at the fort, except Allan Keith,
who comes whenever he can. He is, I suspect, a great admirer of my
sister; and I am not surprised, for she is a dear, good girl, and worthy
of the best fellow in the country."

"Which sister?" very naturally asked Loraine. "You showed me the
portraits of two."

"I have only one. Sybil is not really my sister, though I called her
so, and she is like a sister to us all. My father and mother adopted
her before Effie or any of us were born; and as they were as fond of her
as they could have been had she been their own child, she has lived on
with us ever since. She's as pretty as she looks in her portrait, and
as good and bright as she is pretty, and we boys love her as much as we
do Effie."

This account naturally increased Loraine's desire to see the original of
the beautiful picture; but a sense of delicacy prevented him further
questioning his young companion about her, being well assured that he
would before long tell him all he knew. Hector, indeed, talked away for
the whole party, for Greensnake never uttered a word except from
absolute necessity, and then it was in Cree. Hector, however,
remembered enough to make out the meaning, having known the language
before he went to school, and he translated what was said to Loraine.
They had got to some distance from the camp, when Hector, turning round,
observed two animals following.

"Holloa! What are these?" he exclaimed. "Can they be wolves?"

"If they are," said Loraine, "and they come near enough, we must shoot
them, or they may interfere with our horses at night, especially as they
are likely to pick up companions on the way."

"Very well; then we will stop at once, and do you fire at one of the
brutes, and I will try to kill the other," said Hector. "What do you
say, Greensnake?" he asked in Cree.

The hump-backed Indian grunted out an unintelligible reply, and pointed
ahead.

"He doesn't think it worth while to stop," remarked Hector.

"Nor do I," said Loraine; and they accordingly pushed on at the pace
they had before been going.

After a while, Hector, looking back, exclaimed, "Why, they are not
wolves at all, but a couple of dogs--Old Buster, who belongs to the
Doctor, and Dan Maloney's Muskey! They took a great fancy to me,