THE SELKIRK SETTLERS 105

authorized settlers, the rest in hovels or wigwams built oblong like the roof of one of our European cottages and thatched in general with spruce boughs, some of them very close and fit to turn a good rain. . .

I arrived at the place late 1n the evening, and it had then a very striking appearance. Each family had kindled a large fire near their Wigwam, and round these were assembled groups of figures, whose peculiar national dress added to the singularity of the surround- ing scene. Confused heaps of baggage were every- where piled together, beside their wild habitations; and by the number of fires the whole woods were illumi- nated. At the end of this line of encampment I pitched my own tent, and was surrounded in the morning by a numerous assemblage of people, whose behaviour indicated that they looked to nothing less than a restoration of the happy days of clanship.

We called in at an Indian wigwam, a Micmac who never drinks rum, his wife 15 from one of the Abenaki villages near Quebec and speaks French as he does good English. . . . This man received us hos- pitably and presented us with berries in a birch bark bowl—he gave Dr. McAulay two wild fowl and refused to take any payment.

The roads are very indifferent, mere bridle paths— nowhere the stumps rooted out, they might in some parts be possible for a slay in winter but scarcely anywhere for a cart in summer-—full of deep wet places and as they go on in direct lines marked out by the compass it is mere chance whether they go along swamps or dry land.

Meanwhile, as the unquenchable Sandy had assured the settlers, they had wood—all kinds of wood. And if they lacked amusement, “a bear hunt was the best sport in the world.” I wonder how many searched the Belfast swamps for the tea which equalled any grown in China. I should not be surprised if Sandy found himself in the duck pond, betimes!