s
farm, and we all started West, over rough trails and roadways.
There were seven of us, bound for the valley of the St.
Lawrence--my father and mother, my two sisters, my grandmother,
D'ri, the hired man, and myself, then a sturdy boy of ten. We had
an ox-team and -cart that carried our provision, the sacred feather
beds of my mother, and some few other things.

[Illustration: D'Ri and I.]

We drove with us the first flock of sheep that ever went West.
There were forty of them, and they filled our days with trouble.
But for our faithful dog Rover, I fear we should have lost heart
and left them to the wild wolves. The cart had a low cover of
canvas, and my mother and grandmother sat on the feather beds, and
rode with small comfort even where the roads were level. My father
let me carry my little pet rooster in a basket that hung from the
cart-axle when not in my keeping. The rooster had a harder time
than any of us, I fancy, for the days were hot and the roads rough.
He was always panting, with open mouth and thoughtful eye, when I
lifted the cover. But every day he gave us an example of
cheerfulness not wholly without effect. He crowed triumphantly,
betimes, in the hot basket, even when he was being tumbled about on
the swamp ways. Nights I always found a perch for him on the limb
of a near tree, above the reach of predatory creatures. Every
morning, as the dawn showed faintly in the tree-tops, he gave it a
lusty cheer, napping his wings with all the seeming of delight.
Then, often, while the echo rang, I would open my eyes and watch
the light grow in .the dusky cavern of the woods. He would sit
dozing awhile after the first outbreak, and presently as the flood
of light grew clearer, lift himself a little, take another peep at
the sky, and crow again, turning his head to hear those weird,
mocking roosters of the timber-land. Then, shortly, I would hear
my father poking the fire or saying, as he patted the rooster:
"Sass 'em back, ye noisy little brat! Thet 's right: holler. Tell
D'ri it's time t' bring some wood fer the fire."

In a few minutes the pot and kettle would be boiling and the camp
all astir. We had trout and partridge and venison a-plenty for our
meals, that were served in dishes of tin. Breakfast over, we
packed our things. The cart went on ahead, my father bringing the
oxen, while I started the sheep with D'ri.

Those sheep were as many thorns in our flesh that day we made off
in the