so lately rung with the howl of
wolves, began to fill with far wandering echoes of sweet song.

"They was a big cat over there by the spring las' night," said
D'ri, as we all sat down to breakfast. "Tracks bigger 'n a
griddle! Smelt the mutton, mos' likely."

"Like mutton?" I inquired.

"Yis-sir-ee, they dew," said he. "Kind o' mince-pie fer 'em. Like
deer-meat, tew. Snook eroun' the ponds efter dark. Ef they see a
deer 'n the water they wallop 'im quicker 'n lightnin'; jump right
in k'slap 'n' tek 'im."

We were off at sunrise, on a road that grew rougher every mile. At
noon we came to a river so swollen as to make a dangerous ford.
After dinner my father waded in, going hips under where the water
was deep and swift. Then he cut a long pole and took my mother on
his shoulders and entered the broad stream, steadying himself with
the pole. When she had got down safe on the other side, he came
back for grandmother and my sisters, and took them over in the same
way. D'ri, meanwhile, bound up the feather beds and carried them
on his head, leaving the dog and me to tend the sheep. All our
blankets and clothing were carried across in the same manner. Then
I mounted the cart, with my rooster, lashing the oxen till they
took to the stream. They had tied the bell-wether to the axle,
and, as I started, men and dog drove the sheep after me. The oxen
wallowed in the deep water, and our sheep, after some hesitation,
began to swim. The big cart floated like a raft part of the way,
and we landed with no great difficulty. Farther on, the road
became nothing better than a rude trail, where, frequently, we had
to stop and chop through heavy logs and roll them away. On a steep
hillside the oxen fell, breaking the tongue, and the cart tipped
sidewise and rolled bottom up. My rooster was badly flung about,
and began crowing and flapping as the basket settled. When I
opened it, he flew out, running for his life, as if finally
resolved to quit us. Fortunately, we were all walking, and nobody
was hurt. My father and D'ri were busy half a day "righting up,"
as they called it, mending the tongue and cover, and getting the
cart on its wheels and down the steep pitch.

After two days of trail travel we came out on the Chateaugay road,
stopping awhile to bait our sheep and cattle on the tame grass and
tender briers. It was a great joy to see the clear road, with here
and there a settler's cabin, its yard aglow with the