expressive of the admiration which he really felt for the beauty and grandeur of the forest through which they were just then passing. He had touched a chord in Boulanger's breast which was always ready to vibrate. "Yes, monsieur," exclaimed the latter, forgetting in an instant the rebuff he had recently received; "yes, here, indeed, all is peaceful and happy, for all is as it comes to us from God's hand. The folly and wickedness of man have not yet invaded these sublime yet lovely solitudes. All things around can but remind us of the days when the world came forth from the hands of our Father, and He said it was very good. Come, monsieur, it is time we should call a halt, and take some supper; we have done very well, and made a good beginning. Let us sit down here under this noble tree, and rest and refresh ourselves." Thereupon the travellers seated themselves, and Boulanger produced from his game-bag a plentiful supply of provisions, which soon disappeared under the keen appetites resulting from the night's march, following on a day of hard work and light rations. [Illustration: Tailpiece to Chapter II] [Illustration: Headpiece to Chapter III] CHAPTER III. No further incident worth notice occurred either during the remainder of the night or on the two following days. Thanks to Boulanger's experience and to the genial August weather, Isidore found none of the inconveniences he had anticipated in this impromptu journey, and slept perhaps more soundly than he had ever done before during the long halts which they made in the heat of the day. On the third day, late in the afternoon, they approached the English settlement of which Boulanger had spoken. They had reached the top of a small ridge that looked upon the clearings, the guide being perhaps a dozen yards in advance, when, just as Isidore came up to him, the Canadian turned, and grasping his arm, exclaimed, "The Indians! the Indians! Look! the Indians have been there and destroyed the place. Alas! would that this were all. I fear we may hardly hope to find one soul alive." A single glance at the scene before them was sufficient to satisfy Isidore that his companion's supposition was only too well founded. On the extensive clearings spread out in the valley below he could plainly see the remains of the half dozen homesteads, now either mere heaps of ruins, or at best with only some portion left standing, like blackened monuments serving to mark the spots where the bright hopes and joys of the once happy little community, nay, perhaps they themselves, lay buried for ever.