e that it was one of the same
species--the pitch-pine.

This was the very thing Norman wanted, and plying his axe, he soon
knocked out a large quantity of the resinous knots. These he at length
collected, and putting them into a bag, returned with Francois to the
fire. He then announced that he had no further preparations to make.

All four now sat down to supper, which consisted of dry meat, with
biscuits and coffee; and, as their appetites were sharpened by their
water journey, they made a hearty meal of it.

As soon as they had finished eating, the canoe was launched and got
ready. The screen of birch-bark was set up, by lashing its shaft to the
bottom timbers, and also to one of the seats. Immediately in front of
this, and out upon the bow, was placed the frying-pan; and this having
been secured by being tied at the handle, was filled with dry
pine-knots, ready to be kindled at a moment's notice. These
arrangements being made, the hunters only awaited the darkness to set
forth.

In the progress of their hunt they would be carried still farther
down-stream; but as that was the direction in which they were
travelling, they would only be progressing on their journey, and thus
"killing two birds with one stone." This was altogether a very pleasant
consideration; and, having stowed everything snugly in the canoe, they
sat chatting agreeably and waiting for the arrival of night.

Night came at length, and, as Norman had predicted, it was as "dark as
pitch." Stepping gently into the canoe, and seating themselves in their
respective places, they pushed out and commenced floating down-stream.
Norman sat near the bow, in order to attend to his torch of pine-knots.
Francois was next to him, holding his double-barrel, loaded with
buck-shot, which is the same size as that used for swans, and in England
is even known as "swan-shot."

Next came Basil with his rifle. He sat near Francois, just by the
middle of the little vessel. Lucien, who was altogether a man of peace
principles, and but little of a shot compared with either of his
brothers, handled the oar--not to propel the canoe, but merely to guide
it. In this way the party floated on in silence.

Norman soon kindled his torch, which now cast its red glare over the
surface of the river, extending its fiery radii even to the banks on
both sides of the stream. The trees that overhung the water seemed
tinged with vermilion, and the rippling wave sparkled like