at vivid glare of light.

There was no stir among the trees, the heavy rounded masses of foliage
remained unmoved; the very aspen, that tremulous sensitive tree,
scarcely stirred; it seemed as if the very pulses of nature were at
rest. The solemn murmur that preceded the thunder-peal might have been
likened to the moaning of the dying. The children felt the loneliness of
the spot. Seated at the entrance of their sylvan hut, in front of which
their evening fire burned brightly, they looked out upon the storm in
silence and in awe. Screened by the sheltering shrubs that grew near
them, they felt comparatively safe from the dangers of the storm, which
now burst in terrific violence above the valley. Cloud answered to
cloud, and the echoes of the hills prolonged the sound, while shattered
trunks and brittle branches filled the air, and shrieked and groaned in
that wild war of elements.

Between the pauses of the tempest the long howl of the wolves, from
their covert in some distant cedar swamp at the edge of the lake, might
be heard from time to time,--a sound that always thrilled their hearts
with fear. To the mighty thunder-peal that burst above their heads they
listened with awe and wonder. It seemed, indeed, to them as if it were
the voice of Him who "sendeth out his voice, yea, and that a mighty
voice." And they bowed and adored his majesty; but they shrank with
curdled blood from the cry of the _felon wolf._

And now the storm was at its climax, and the hail and rain came down
in a whitening flood upon that ocean of forest leaves; the old grey
branches were lifted up and down, and the stout trunks rent, for they
would not bow down before the fury of the whirlwind, and were scattered
all abroad like chaff before the wind.

The children thought not of danger for themselves, but they feared for
the safety of their fathers, whom they believed to be not far off from
them. And often 'mid the raging of the elements, they fancied they could
distinguish familiar voices calling upon their names. "If our father had
not been near, Wolfe would not have come hither."

"Ah, if our father should have perished in this fearful storm," said
Catharine, weeping, "or have been starved to death while seeking for
us!" and Catharine covered her face and wept more bitterly.

But Louis would not listen to such melancholy forebodings. Their fathers
were both brave hardy men, accustomed to every sort of danger and
privation; they were able