es of the adjacent lakes,--Nomabbin, Silver, and Pine
Lakes. On the shore of Nomabbin had formerly been one of the finest
Indian villages. Our host said, that once, as he was lying there
beneath the bank, he saw a tall Indian standing at gaze on the knoll.
He lay a long time, curious to see how long the figure would maintain
its statue-like absorption. But at last his patience yielded, and,
in moving, he made a slight noise. The Indian saw him, gave a wild,
snorting sound of indignation and pain, and strode away.

What feelings must consume their hearts at such moments! I scarcely
see how they can forbear to shoot the white man where he stands.

But the power of fate is with, the white man, and the Indian feels it.
This same gentleman told of his travelling through the wilderness with
an Indian guide. He had with him a bottle of spirit which he meant to
give him in small quantities, but the Indian, once excited, wanted
the whole at once. "I would not," said Mr. ----, "give it him, for I
thought, if he got really drunk, there was an end to his services as
a guide. But he persisted, and at last tried to take it from me. I
was not armed; he was, and twice as strong as I. But I knew an Indian
could not resist the look of a white man, and I fixed my eye steadily
on his. He bore it for a moment, then his eye fell; he let go the
bottle. I took his gun and threw it to a distance. After a few
moments' pause, I told him to go and fetch it, and left it in his
hands. From that moment he was quite obedient, even servile, all the
rest of the way."

This gentleman, though in other respects of most kindly and liberal
heart, showed the aversion that the white man soon learns to feel for
the Indian on whom he encroaches,--the aversion of the injurer for him
he has degraded. After telling the anecdote of his seeing the Indian
gazing at the seat of his former home,

"A thing for human feelings the most trying,"

and which, one would think, would have awakened soft compassion--
almost remorse--in the present owner of that fair hill, which
contained for the exile the bones of his dead, the ashes of his
hopes, he observed: "They cannot be prevented from straggling back
here to their old haunts. I wish they could. They ought not to be
permitted to drive away _our_ game." OUR game,--just heavens!

The same gentleman showed, on a slight occasion, the true spirit of a
sportsman, or perhaps I might say of Man, when engaged in any kind
of