as herself, only that they were unconscious of their imprisoned state,
having from birth been used to no better treatment, and moreover they
were sure to be rewarded by the tender caresses of living mothers
when the season of refreshment and repose arrived; but she alas! was
friendless and alone, an orphan girl, reft of father, mother, kindred
and friends. One Father, one Friend, poor Catharine, thou hadst, even
He--the Father of the fatherless.

That night when the women and children were sleeping, Catharine stole
out of the wigwam, and climbed the precipitous bank beneath the shelter
of which the lodges had been erected. She found herself upon a grassy
plain, studded with majestic oaks and pines, so beautifully grouped that
they might have been planted by the hand of taste upon that velvet turf.
It was a delightful contrast to those dense dark forests through
which for so many many miles the waters of the Otonabee had flowed
on monotonously; here it was all wild and free, dashing along like a
restive steed rejoicing in its liberty, uncurbed and tameless.

Yes, here it was beautiful! Catharine gazed with joy upon the rushing
river, and felt her own heart expand as she marked its rapid course, as
it bounded murmuring and fretting over its rocky bed. "Happy, glorious
waters! you are not subject to the power of any living creature, no
canoe can ascend those surging waves; I would that I too, like thee,
were free to pursue my onward way--how soon would I flee away and be at
rest!" Such thoughts perhaps might have passed through the mind of the
lonely captive girl, as she sat at the foot of one giant oak, and looked
abroad over those moonlit waters, till, oppressed by the overwhelming
sense of the utter loneliness of the scene, the timid girl with
faltering step hurried down once more to the wigwams, silently crept
to the mat where her bed was spread, and soon forgot all her woes and
wanderings in deep tranquil sleep.

Catharine wondered that the Indians in erecting their lodges always
seemed to prefer the low, level, and often swampy grounds by the lakes
and rivers in preference to the higher and more healthy elevations. So
disregardful are they of this circumstance, that they do not hesitate to
sleep where the ground is saturated with moisture. They will then lay a
temporary flooring of cedar or any other bark beneath their feet, rather
than remove the tent a few feet higher up, where a drier soil may always
be found.