mpany me deep into the wild-woods, and backward in time to about an
hour before noon of the day preceding Christmas. It is a tangled shady
spot to which I draw attention, the snow-floor of which is over-arched
by dark pine-branches and surrounded by walls of willows and other
shrubs. There is a somewhat open circular space in the centre of the
spot, into which an Indian on snow-shoes strode at the hour mentioned.
Even his most intimate friends might have failed at a first glance to
recognise Big Otter, for he was at the time very near the close of a
long, hard, wearisome journey, during the course of which he had
experienced both danger and privation. Latterly he had conceived an
idea, which he had striven with all his powers--and they were not
small--to carry out. It was neither more nor less than to arrive in
time to spend Christmas Day with his friends at Fort Wichikagan.

But to accomplish this feat, commencing at the time he conceived it,
required that the Indian should travel without fail upwards of forty
miles every day. This, on snow-shoes, could only be done by a very
Hercules, and that only for a few days at a stretch. Big Otter knew his
powers of endurance, and had carried out his resolve nearly to
completion, when a storm arose so fierce, with temperature so bitterly
cold, that he could not force against it, and thus lost the greater part
of a day. Still, the thing was not impossible, and, as the difficulties
multiplied, our Indian's resolve to conquer increased.

In this state of mind, and much worn and fagged in body, with soiled and
rent garments that told of weeks upon weeks of toil, he entered the
circle, or open space before referred to, and, coming to a stand, rested
the butt of his gun on one of his snowshoes, heaved a deep sigh, and
looked round, as if undecided how to act.

But Big Otter's periods of indecision never lasted long. Being
naturally of a sociable turn of mind he partially revealed his mental
condition by low mutterings which I take leave to translate.

"Yes, I can do it. The pale-faces are pleasant men; pleasanter at
Christmas-time than at other times. They love song, and Big Otter loves
to hear song, though he does not love to do it. Men do not love to try
what they cannot do. The pale-faces have much food, too, on Christmas
Day, and much good-will. Big Otter loves both the good-will and the
food, especially that round thing they are so fond of--plum-puddinn they
call