The river was scarcely free from ice-floes when Chrissy was summoned to the bedside of her mother, who had been hovering between life and death for several weeks. Weary and worn with nervous apprehension and the strain of the long and perilous journey, she entered the sick-room. The flickering light from the hearth fell upon the white face of the mother whom she loved as only a mother could be loved. She was sleeping soundly. Bending over her she laid her cool hand on the fevered brow, when the poor sufferer opened her eyes, but was too weak to speak. She smiled faintly, and again fell into a deep sleep. Through the long watches of the night, and oft through the day, she sat gazing at the sleeping form, inwardly praying that she might not be taken from them, that their home might not be left desolate. At last there came a beautiful sunny morning in May when consciousness returned, and the patient began to show other signs of recovery. Naturally of a strong, vigorous constitution, Mrs. Wright soon became convalescent. One evening she was lying on a couch before the fire, when she observed the pallor of Chrissy's earnest face. "You must go out more, my child," she said. "You have had a long siege of nursing. You look worn out." "Come along, Chris," said Phil, her eldest brother. "Let us go for a stroll down to the shore." It was a beautiful evening. The sun was just veiling his face behind the western hills, illuminating the sky with glory, when suddenly they were attracted by the sweet strains of a French song in the distance. Soon twelve canoes rounded the headland, coming up the mighty current of the river, manned by men decked out in varied and brilliant colors. They sang as only Canadian voyageurs could sing, suiting the action of the paddles to the rhythm of the song: "A la claire fontaine, M'en allant, promener, J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle, Que je m'y suis baig-né, Lui ya longstemps que je t'aime, Jamais je ne t'oublierai." Each verse was sung in solo, and then repeated by all in chorus, finishing with a piercing Indian shriek. [Illustration: "Soon twelve canoes rounded the headland."] They followed them to the landing-place--a great flat rock on the north side of the river, at the beginning of the portage road--and found them preparing to bivouac there for the night, for all hands were busily engaged in kindling fires and unstrapping blankets. It was soon ascertained that it was one of the Hudson's Bay Company's brigades _en route_ for the North, with supplies for the Company's forts, and that it was in command of a young Scotchman. Chrissy's pale face crimsoned as George Morrison approached her, and invited her and her brother to share his evening meal. At first glance he could have seen a resemblance between Phil and Chrissy, in feature, in manner and expression; both had the same quiet, thoughtful manner, the same calm, deliberate way of speaking, and the same reserved, proud bearing.