to be comforted, because they were not." The miserable
uncertainty that involved the fate of the lost ones was an aggravation
to the sufferings of the mourners: could they but have been certified of
the manner of their deaths, they fancied they should be more contented;
but, alas! this fearful satisfaction was withheld.

"Oh, were their tale of sorrow known,
'Twere something to the breaking heart,
The pangs of doubt would then be gone,
And fancy's endless dreams depart."

But let us quit the now mournful settlement of the Cold Springs, and see
how it really fared with the young wanderers.

When they awoke the valley was filled with a white creamy mist, that
arose from the bed of the stream, (now known as Cold Creek,) and gave an
indistinctness to the whole landscape, investing it with an appearance
perfectly different to that which it had worn by the bright, clear
light of the moon. No trace of their footsteps remained to guide them in
retracing their path; so hard and dry was the stony ground that it left
no impression on its surface. It was with some difficulty they found
the creek, which was concealed from sight by a lofty screen of gigantic
hawthorns, high-bush cranberries, poplars, and birch-trees. The hawthorn
was in blossom, and gave out a sweet perfume, not less fragrant than
the "May" which makes the lanes and hedgerows of "merrie old England" so
sweet and fair in May and June, as chanted in many a genuine pastoral
of our olden time; but when our simple Catharine drew down the flowery
branches to wreathe about her hat, she loved the flowers for their own
native sweetness and beauty, not because poets had sung of them;--but
young minds have a natural poetry in themselves, unfettered by rule or
rhyme.

At length their path began to grow more difficult. A tangled mass of
cedars, balsams, birch, black ash, alders, and _tamarack_ (Indian name
for the larch), with a dense thicket of bushes and shrubs, such as love
the cool, damp soil of marshy ground, warned our travellers that
they must quit the banks of the friendly stream, or they might become
entangled in a trackless swamp. Having taken copious and refreshing
draughts from the bright waters, and bathed their hands and faces, they
ascended the grassy bank, and again descending, found themselves in one
of those long valleys, enclosed between lofty sloping banks, clothed
with shrubs and oaks, with here and there a stately pine. Through this
second valle