unharmed. Twice that day, misled by following the track of the deer,
had they returned to the samespot,--a deep and lovely glen, which had
once been a watercourse, but was now a green and shady valley. This
they named the Valley of the Rock, from a remarkable block of red
granite that occupied a central position in the narrow defile; and
here they prepared to pass their second night on the Plains. A few
boughs cut down and interlaced with the shrubs round a small space
cleared with Hector's axe, formed shelter, and leaves and grass,
strewed on the ground, formed a bed--though not so smooth, perhaps, as
the bark and cedar boughs that the Indians spread within their summer
wigwams for carpets and couches, or the fresh heather that the
Highlanders gather on the wild Scottish hills.

While Hector and Louis were preparing the sleeping chamber, Catharine
busied herself in preparing the partridge for their supper. Having
collected some thin peelings from the rugged bark of a birch tree that
grew on the side of the steep bank to which she gave the appropriate
name of the "Birken Shaw," she dried it in her bosom, and then beat it
fine upon a big stone, till it resembled the finest white paper. This
proved excellent tinder, the aromatic oil contained in the bark of the
birch being highly inflammable. Hector had prudently retained the
flint that they had used in the morning, and a fire was now lighted in
front of the rocky stone, and a forked stick, stuck in the ground, and
bent over the coals, served as a spit, on which, gipsy-fashion, the
partridge was suspended,--a scanty meal, but thankfully partaken of,
though they knew not how they should breakfast next morning. The
children felt they were pensioners on God's providence not less than
the wild denizens of the wilderness around them.

When Hector--who by nature was less sanguine than his sister or