me the
path to the cow house had been completed; and the men then employed
themselves in carrying as much fire-wood as they could, before it was
dark, within the palisades.

"Well," observed Alfred, "now things may go on as usual within doors;
and what have we to do out, Martin?"

"You must first get on your snow-shoes, and learn to walk in them,"
observed Martin; "or otherwise you'll be a prisoner as well as the
ladies. You see, John, you're not at Malachi's lodge."

"Go to-morrow," replied John.

"No; not to-morrow, for I must go with you," said Martin; "I can not
trust you for finding your way; and I can not go to-morrow nor the next
day either. We must kill our beef to-morrow; there's no fear but it will
keep all the winter now, and we shall save our hay."

"My larder is but poorly furnished," observed Mrs. Campbell.

"Never mind, ma'am, we'll soon have something in it, which will save our
beef. In another week you shall have it well stocked."

"John," said Mr. Campbell, "recollect you must not go away without
Martin."

"I won't," replied John.

All the game in the larder having been consumed, they sat down to salt
pork and some of the fish which had been cured. The latter was
pronounced to be excellent.

"What is the name of this fish, Martin?"

"It is called the white-fish," replied Martin, "and I have heard gentry
from the old country say that they have none better, if any so good."

"It is certainly most excellent," replied Mr. Campbell, "and we will not
forget to have a good provision for next winter, if it please God to
spare our lives."

"Where were you born, Martin?" said Henry, as they were sitting round
the kitchen fire, as usual in the evening.

"Why, Mr. Henry, I was born at Quebec. My father was a corporal in the
army under General Wolfe, and was wounded in the great battle fought
between him and the Frenchman Montcalm."

"In which both generals were killed, but the victory was to us."

"So I've heard, sir," replied Martin. "My mother was an English woman,
and I was born about four years after the surrender of Quebec. My mother
died soon afterward, but my father was alive about five years ago, I
believe. I can't exactly say, as I was for three or four years in the
employ of the Fur Company, and when I returned, I found that he was
dead."

"And you have been a hunter all your life?"

"Not all my life, and not exactly a hunter. I call myself a trapper, but
I still am both. I first