But Peegwish was a poor water-drawer. The ox turned out to be more
obstinate than himself, and also more callous, for when it became
fatigued with hauling the water-barrel to and fro, it stopped at the
foot of the slope near a corner of the garden, and refused to budge.
Peegwish lashed it, but it did not feel--at all events, it did not care.
He tried to wheedle it, but failed: he became abusive, and used bad
language to the ox, but without success. He was in the height of his
distress when Petawanaquat passed by with a load of firewood on his
shoulder. The red man having been reconciled to his old enemy, had
remained at Red River, partly to assist him, partly to see the end of
the flood, and partly to be near his friend Sinclair and his adopted son
Tonyquat. From the latter he could not tear himself away.

The Indian stood and gazed solemnly at his brother savage for some
minutes, then he threw down his load, and entering the garden, cut the
remains of a cabbage which had survived the flood. With this he went to
the ox and held it to its nose. The animal advanced; the Indian
retreated a few steps. The ox advanced again in the hope of obtaining a
savoury mouthful, but the Indian still retreated. Thus, step by step,
the slope was ascended!

"Wah!" said Petawanaquat, with a grave look, as he handed the cabbage to
Peegwish, who profited by the lesson, and gained his ends.

"She's fery lazy," muttered Angus to himself--referring to Peegwish--as
he went up the river bank towards the knoll, where his house now stood
triumphantly, "fery lazy; more lazy than--than--"

Failing to find a just comparison, he tailed off in expressive but
untranslatable Gaelic.

"Goot tay to you, Muster Ruvnshaw," said Angus, on reaching the summit
of the knoll. "It wass fery goot of you, whatever, to let my hoose
stand here."

"Don't mention it, Angus," said the old gentleman, removing his pipe
with one hand, and extending the other. "It would be difficult to
prevent it remaining where it is now. Besides, I passed my word, you
know, and that cannot be broken. Come, sit down. I'm thankful your
house was so considerate as to spare my smoking-box, though it has given
it a shove of a few feet to the south'ard. In other respects the house
is an advantage, for while it has not hurt the view, it serves to
protect my box from the quarter which used to be exposed to east winds.
But there is one stipulation I have to make Angus, before the