Dick's Desertion: A Boy's Adventures in Canadian Forests / A Tale of the Early Settlement of Ontario

l of th

he fences and farm buildings, which, for some dark reason of his own, Peter condescended to do, and to do well. He was too proud to be dishonest, and he was never there when he was not wanted; so that after a few weeks the inmates of the homestead looked for his silent presence as a matter of course. Mr. Collinson was interested in him-in his quaint English, his stately ways, his swiftness,

ned, and he told tales in his odd, sing-song English which sent Dick about his tasks with wide, dreamy eyes and ears that heard not. Dick feared the Indian as he might have feared all his temptations embodied in a human for

oticed by watchful Mr. Collinson that Dick sought Peter's companionship more and more frequently, and that the Indian's un

enough, the Collinsons had few sugar-maples on their farm, so they used to go to their nearest neighbour's, where a certain number of trees were yearly set aside for them. This neighbour was more than ten miles distant as the bird

s evident disappointment, and said he would stay at home. "Though I 'm sure," he said to himself placidly, "that I should take just as much care of Stephanie as he c

d one of the farm-hands driving the pair of horses. The other and more roughly built sleigh followed them, loaded with all the appliances necess

l and bump of the clumsy runners broke the silence. But as the pale March day dawned in a flood of blue and primrose-yellow, crystal-clear and chill behind the trees, subdued talking and laughter startled the solitudes as the sleighs passed. The skies, as the sun rose higher, were of a deep translucent blue, and the breeze had an edge as of steel. Nothing seemed at first sight to give promise of spring. But an observant eye

eclaim. And between these trees the carpet of white lay as yet unbroken, though somewhat shrunken here and there. Winter seemed to be still present; but as the day advanced, Stephanie noticed that the woods were disturbed b

hanie was to sleep at the house, and all the evening she discussed matters with the eldest daughter, bright-faced, soft-tongued Nonie O'Brien-matters dear to the hearts of girls; and No

to the bush and built the rough shelter of boughs they were to inhabit for the nine or ten days of their stay. T

t for the purpose. Several times during the day the sap was all gathered in buckets, carried at the end of a yoke which was placed across the shoulders, and taken to the g

ht. And on one particular night, about a week after his arrival, Dick was chosen to sit up and keep w

evening meal at the homestead, and had returned to the shelter a

es of bark, placed a folded blanket over all, and then settled himself in his nest with complete satisfaction. He had th

ain gleams in the flicker of the flames. It was all empty and still, and the silence at first seemed unbroken; but, owing perhaps to the breeze and the recent thaw, on carefully listening the forest was full of v

ed. The woods were still full of those ghostly rustlings, but after a

avage in him to lie perfectly still and listen for several minutes before moving. The noise that must have awakened him was not repeated, but there seemed to be an increa

g kettles of sap, and the shifting light made it difficult to distinguish objects at a little distance. But Dick had sharp eyes; and soo

one could have accused Dick of physical cowardice, and immediately he tiptoed

shone like a wild animal's in the glow of the fire, an

is dark face was shaken with some strange excitement, and his eyes gleamed green like a wolfs behind their grey. He seemed to be in one of those

tion his eyes shone more wildly. He seemed unconscious of Dick's presence after the fi

g, the subdued, incessant crooning were fascinating him, just as they might fascinate and excite a young brave at his antelope dances.

d him, and he dropped his hand

For a moment he was silent. Then he flung out his arm, lean, brown, circled with s

ARM, CIRCLED WIT

A WILD GESTURE, AN

the English boy, standing white-faced and motionless in the glow of the fire

n the wonderful play of expression in Peter's dark face and flashing, grey-green eyes, in the faultless art

d of the prairies; of the flowers whiter than snow, redder than blood; of the pipe of willow-flutes in the dusk, and the triumph-cry of the raiders as they thunder home to the music of a hundred stolen hoofs-all these things Dick thought of as he listened, only understan

h fascinated eyes even afte

of his gazing into the English boy's softer ones. And suddenly

ice which did not appear to be his. "Yes, I will