ay. The upper part of a
bulbous root, however, was just visible above the surface. It was a bulb
of the wild leek. The leaves, when young, are about six inches in
length, of a flat shape and often three inches broad; but, strange to
say, they shrivel or die off very early in the season--even before the
plant flowers, and then it is difficult to find the bulb.

Lucien, however, had sharp eyes for such things; and in a short while he
had rooted out several bulbs as large as pigeons' eggs, and deposited
them in his birchen vessel. He now turned to go back to camp, satisfied
with what he had obtained. He had the rice to give consistency to his
soup, and the leek roots to flavour it with. That would be enough.

As he was walking over a piece of boggy ground his eye was attracted to
a singular plant, whose tall stem rose high above the grass. It was full
eight feet in height, and at its top there was an umbel of conspicuous
white flowers. Its leaves were large, lobed, and toothed, and the stem
itself was over an inch in diameter, with furrows running
longitudinally. Lucien had never seen the plant before, although he had
often heard accounts of it, and he at once recognised it from its
botanical description. It was the celebrated "cow parsnip." Its stem was
jointed and hollow, and Lucien had heard that the Indians called it in
their language "flute stem," as they often used it to make their rude
musical instruments from, and also a sort of whistle or "call," by which
they were enabled to imitate and decoy several kinds of deer. But there
was another use to which the plant was put, of which the naturalist was
not aware. Norman who had been wandering about, came up at this moment,
and seeing Lucien standing by the plant, uttered a joyful "Hulloh!"

"Well," inquired Lucien, "what pleases you, coz?"

"Why, the flute-stem, of course. You talked of making a soup. It will
help you, I fancy."

"How?" demanded Lucien.

"Why, the young stems are good eating, and the roots, if you will; but
the young shoots are better. Both Indians and voyageurs eat them in
soup, and are fond of them. It's a famous thing, I assure you."

"Let us gather some, then," said Lucien; and the cousins commenced
cutting off such stems as were still young and tender. As soon as they
had obtained enough, they took their way back to the camp. Basil had
already arrived with a fine _prairie hen_ which he had shot, and Sandy
had brought back a squirrel; so that