icket of hawthorn
near the beach, when a loud laugh called my attention to the river,
where I saw a canoe of savages making to the shore; there were six
women, and two or three children, without one man amongst them: they
landed, tied the canoe to the root of a tree, and finding out the most
agreable shady spot amongst the bushes with which the beach was
covered, which happened to be very near me, made a fire, on which they
laid some fish to broil, and, fetching water from the river, sat down
on the grass to their frugal repast.

I stole softly to the house, and, ordering a servant to bring some
wine and cold provisions, returned to my squaws: I asked them in French
if they were of Lorette; they shook their heads: I repeated the
question in English, when the oldest of the women told me, they were
not; that their country was on the borders of New England; that, their
husbands being on a hunting party in the woods, curiosity, and the
desire of seeing their brethren the English who had conquered Quebec,
had brought them up the great river, down which they should return as
soon as they had seen Montreal. She courteously asked me to sit down,
and eat with them, which I complied with, and produced my part of the
feast. We soon became good company, and _brighten'd the chain
of friendship_ with two bottles of wine, which put them into such
spirits, that they danced, sung, shook me by the hand, and grew so very
fond of me, that I began to be afraid I should not easily get rid of
them. They were very unwilling to part with me; but, after two or three
very ridiculous hours, I with some difficulty prevailed on the ladies
to pursue their voyage, having first replenished their canoe with
provisions and a few bottles of wine, and given them a letter of
recommendation to your brother, that they might be in no distress at
Montreal.

Adieu! my father is just come in, and has brought some company with
him from Quebec to supper.

Yours ever,
A. Fermor.

Don't you think, my dear, my good sisters the squaws seem to live
something the kind of life of our gypsies? The idea struck me as they
were dancing. I assure you, there is a good deal of resemblance in
their persons: I have seen a fine old seasoned female gypsey, of as
dark a complexion as a savage: they are all equally marked as children
of the sun.

LETTER 17.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Repentigny, Sept. 18, ten at night.

I study my fellow trave