eheart laughed and continued her culinary duties.

"You told us when we first met," said Captain Trench, who had made
himself comfortable on a deerskin beside the baby, "that you had taken
special means not to forget your native tongue. Do I guess rightly in
supposing that the teaching of it to your wife and children was the
means?"

"You are right, captain. Of course, the language of the Micmac Indians
is more familiar and agreeable to Trueheart, but she is obstinate,
though a good creature on the whole, and insists on speaking English, as
you hear."

Another little laugh in the vicinity of the earthen pot showed that his
wife appreciated the remark.

Meanwhile Goodred busied herself in preparing venison steaks over the
same fire, and Oscar undertook to roast marrow bones for the whole
party, as well as to instruct Oliver Trench in that delicate operation.

While they were thus engaged the shades of evening gradually descended
on the scene, but that did not interfere with their enjoyment, for by
heaping fresh resinous logs on the fire they produced a ruddy light,
which seemed scarcely inferior to that of day; a light which glowed on
the pretty and pleasant features of the wife and daughter as they moved
about placing plates of birch-bark before the guests, and ladling soup
and viands into trenchers of the same. Savoury smells floated on the
air, and gradually expelled the scent of shrub and flower from the
banqueting-hall.

Truly, it was a right royal banquet; fit for a king--if not too
particular a king--to say nothing of its being spread before one who was
monarch of all he surveyed, and served by his queen and princess!

There was, first of all, soup of excellent quality. Then followed
boiled salmon and roast sea-trout. Next came a course of boiled
venison, fat and juicy, with an alternative of steaks and grilled ribs.
This was followed by what may be styled a haunch of beaver, accompanied
by the animal's tail--a prime delicacy--in regard to which Captain
Trench, with his mouth full of it, said--

"This is excellent eatin', Master Hendrick. What may it be--if I may
presume to ask?"

"Beaver's tail," replied the hunter.

"Dear me!" exclaimed Olly, withdrawing a roast rib from his mouth for
the purpose of speech; "beavers seem to have wonderfully broad and flat
tails."

"They have, Oliver, and if you will try a bit you will find that their
tails are wonderfully good."

Oliver tried, and admitted