ian woman. They both spoke English fluently, and entertained me
much by accounts of their different experiences.

The Dutch girl told me of a dance among the common people at
Amsterdam, called the shepherd's dance. The two leaders are dressed
as shepherd and shepherdess; they invent to the music all kinds of
movements, descriptive of things that may happen in the field, and the
rest are obliged to follow. I have never heard of any dance which gave
such free play to the fancy as this. French dances merely describe
the polite movements of society; Spanish and Neapolitan, love; the
beautiful Mazurkas, &c. are war-like or expressive of wild scenery.
But in this one is great room both for fun and fancy.

The Indian was married, when young, by her parents, to a man she did
not love. He became dissipated, and did not maintain her. She left
him, taking with her their child, for whom and herself she earns a
subsistence by going as chambermaid in these boats. Now and then, she
said, her husband called on her, and asked if he might live with her
again; but she always answered, No. Here she was far freer than she
would have been in civilized life. I was pleased by the nonchalance of
this woman, and the perfectly national manner she had preserved after
so many years of contact with all kinds of people.

The two women, when I left the boat, made me presents of Indian work,
such as travellers value, and the manner of the two was characteristic
of their different nations. The Indian brought me hers, when I was
alone, looked bashfully down when she gave it, and made an almost
sentimental little speech. The Dutch girl brought hers in public, and,
bridling her short chin with a self-complacent air, observed she had
_bought_ it for me. But the feeling of affectionate regard was the
same in the minds of both.

Island after island we passed, all fairly shaped and clustering in a
friendly way, but with little variety of vegetation. In the afternoon
the weather became foggy, and we could not proceed after dark. That
was as dull an evening as ever fell.

The next morning the fog still lay heavy, but the captain took me out
in his boat on an exploring expedition, and we found the remains of
the old English fort on Point St. Joseph's. All around was so wholly
unmarked by anything but stress of wind and weather, the shores of
these islands and their woods so like one another, wild and lonely,
but nowhere rich and majestic, that there was some