you were very anxious to secure
it for yourself in the event of his not wanting it, and add that in the
selling of Loch Dhu you concealed from Mr Redding the name of the
former owner because of an absurd fancy in your own mind which it is not
worth while to mention."

"Won't that be a sort of humiliating confession?" urged the little man
timidly.

To this the little woman replied that it was better to make a _sort of_
humiliating confession than to admit the full extent of his unreasoning
stupidity; and the surveyor, half agreeing with her in his own mind,
immediately went to his study, wrote the epistle as directed, and sent
it off express by an Indian.

Meanwhile the party at the wreck found themselves in the unpleasant
condition of having nothing fresh to eat. As we have said, the trapper
had left them, knowing that the fur-traders and the Indians were quite
capable of looking after their wants. But soon afterwards the Indians
went away down the gulf to hunt seals, and none of the McLeods being
able to speak their language, they could not, or would not, be got to
understand that one of them was wanted to remain and hunt for the sick
man. As McLeod had still some provisions on hand, with a gun and
ammunition besides his boat, he did not much mind the departure of the
red men at the time. As time wore on, however, and their fresh
provisions failed, he became anxious, and wished that he had not so
angrily declined the aid offered by the fur-traders. Neither father nor
son had the slightest taste for field sports, so that when they saw the
track of an animal they found it almost impossible to follow it up with
success, and when, by good fortune, they chanced to discover a
"partridge" or a squirrel they invariably missed it! This incapacity
and a scarcity of game had at last reduced them to extremities.

"Kenneth," said his father one morning, as they walked up and down
beside the hut in which Flora sat talking to Roderick, "we must give up
our vain attempts at hunting, for it is quite plain that you and I are
incapable of improvement. After that splendid shot of yours, in which
you only blew a bunch of feathers out of a bird that was not more than
four yards from the end of your gun--"

"That," interrupted Kenneth, "was the very cause of my missing. Had it
been a little further off I should certainly have killed it. But,
father, you seem to forget the squirrel's tail, which is the only trophy
you have to s