When the hunter had stood for full five minutes gazing at the beautiful scenery by which he was surrounded, it suddenly occurred to him that a pipe would render him much more capable of enjoying it; so he sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree, leaned his gun on it, pulled the fire-bag from his belt, and began to fill his pipe, which was one of the kind used by the savages¹ of the country, with a stone head and a wooden stem. It was soon lighted, and Jasper was thinking how much more clear and beautiful a landscape looked through tobacco smoke, when a hand was laid lightly on his shoulder. Looking quickly round, he beheld² a tall dark-faced Indian standing³ by his side.

 

Jasper betrayed neither alarm nor surprise; for the youth was his own comrade, who had merely come to tell him that the canoe in which they had been travelling together, and which had been slightly damaged, was repaired and ready for service.

 

“Why, Arrowhead, you steal on me with the soft tread of a fox. My ears are not dull, yet I did not hear your approach, lad.”

 

A smile lighted up the countenance⁴ of the young Indian for a moment, as he listened to a compliment which gratified him much; but the grave expression which was natural to him instantly returned, as he said, “Arrowhead has hunted in the Rocky Mountains where the men are treacherous⁵; he has learned to tread lightly there.”

 

“No doubt, ye had need to be always on the look out where there are such varmints; but hereaway, Arrowhead, there are no foes⁶ to fear, and therefore no need to take yer friends by surprise. But ye’re proud o’ your gifts, lad, an’ I suppose it’s natural to like to show them off. Is the canoe ready?”

 

The Indian replied by a nod.

 

“That’s well, lad, it will be sun-down in another hour, an’ I would like to camp on the point of pines to-night; so come along.”

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