er mother. "Please ask him,
mother?"

"We call it blazing the track, Marm," replied Mr. Jones to Mrs. Lee's
inquiry. "You see, in this new country, where there's no sartain road,
we're obliged to mark the trees as we go, if we want to come back the
same way. Now, these 'ere blazed trees will guide me to Painted Posts
without any trouble, when I've left you at your place."

At sunset on the sixth day, they found themselves within five miles of
the end of the journey, happily without having experienced worse than a
good deal of jolting and some occasional frights. As it was impossible
to travel after dark, they camped for the night near a spring on the
road side. A good fire was kindled at the foot of a large tree, the
kettle slung over it by the help of three crossed sticks; and while Mrs.
Lee and Annie got out the provisions for supper, the men and Tom fed and
tethered the horses and oxen close by. When Mr. Jones had done his part
in these duties, he brought from his private stores in the wagon a large
bag and a saucepan.

"I reckon I'll have a mess of hominy to-night," said he. "It's going on
five days since I've had any."

"A mess of hominy," cried Tom; "that does not sound very nice."

"I guess if you tasted it you'd find it nice," answered the wagoner.
"You British don't know anything of the vartues of our corn."

He poured into the saucepan as he spoke a quantity of the Indian corn
grains, coarsely broken, and covering it with water, put it on the fire.
It was soon swelled to twice its former bulk, and looked and smelt very
good. With the addition of a little butter and salt, it made such a
"mess of hominy," as Mr. Jones called it, that few persons would not
have relished. Tom certainly did, as he proved at supper, when the
good-natured wagoner invited all to try it.

The meal was a merry one, notwithstanding the fatigue they had all
experienced during the hard travel of that day--the merrier because of
their anticipated arrival on the morrow at their future home. They all
talked of it, wondering where they should build their house--by the
river (for Uncle John had told them there was one near) or by the wood?
Tom wished for the first, as he thought what fine fishing he might have
at any hour; but Annie preferred the shade of the trees.

"Oh! father," cried she, "I hope there will be as many flowers as I saw
to-day on the road. Such beautiful Rhododendrons! a whole hill covered
with them, all in blossom! A