ving a graphic
account of his sledge journey from the Mountain Fort--his recently built
trading-post--to Fort Wichikagan, and I observed particularly that the
presence of a lady among us had a most wonderful and irresistible
influence in softening the tones and the manners of all.

As the evening advanced tea was introduced--we had nothing stronger, and
did not, indeed, feel any desire for fire-water. Under the inspiriting
influence of this beverage, several of our men were induced to tell
stories, which were more or less humorous.

During the meal--at which Lumley insisted that "Miss Macnab" should
preside, to the immense disgust of Salamander--I observed that the
dark-haired white girl and the fair-haired Indian, drew very closely
together. It appeared to me that they had fallen in love with each
other at first sight, a fact which afforded me lively satisfaction,
though I had no very clear perception as to why it should do so.

Songs naturally followed the cheering cup, and at this point Lumley
became unusually bold.

"I wonder," he said, with a peculiar air of modesty which somewhat
puzzled me, "if I may venture to ask Miss Macnab for a song."

"Ha! ha!" shouted her brother, before she could reply, "you _may_
venture to ask, my boy, but you'll find it difficult to draw a song out
of Jessie. Why, she never could sing a note!"

"I've a good mind to sing now, Peter," said the girl with a laugh, "just
to prove that you are a false man."

"No, no, Jessie, spare me," returned the Highlander, "but get out your
accordion, and--"

"Accordion!" almost shouted Lumley, "do you play the accordion? Have
you really got one here?"

It is but right to say, in justification of Lumley's enthusiasm, that
music of any kind was so seldom heard in those wilds, that the mere
prospect of hearing good music excited us, for of course our natural
thought was that a girl like Jessie Macnab could not perform anything
but good music.

As she rose to go for the instrument to Salamander's room--which had
been made over to her--a growling Gaelic exclamation made me aware of
the fact that the faces of Donald Bane and James Dougall were beaming
with hope, mingled with admiration of their countrywoman. She had
naturally paid these men a good deal of attention, and, in addition to
her other good qualities, spoke their native tongue fluently. As
Dougall afterwards said, "She hes the Gaelic!"

On returning to the hall with the once fami