The new-comers gave one satisfied glance at their future home, and
then set to work to erect log huts forthwith. Soon the axe was heard
ringing through the forests, and tree after tree fell to the ground,
while the occasional sharp ring of a rifle told that the hunters were
catering successfully for the camp. In course of time the Mustang
Valley began to assume the aspect of a thriving settlement, with
cottages and waving fields clustered together in the midst of it.

Of course the savages soon found it out and paid it occasional visits.
These dark-skinned tenants of the woods brought furs of wild animals
with them, which they exchanged with the white men for knives, and
beads, and baubles and trinkets of brass and tin. But they hated the
"Pale-faces" with bitter hatred, because their encroachments had at
this time materially curtailed the extent of their hunting-grounds,
and nothing but the numbers and known courage of the squatters
prevented these savages from butchering and scalping them all.

The leader of this band of pioneers was a Major Hope, a gentleman
whose love for nature in its wildest aspects determined him to
exchange barrack life for a life in the woods. The major was a
first-rate shot, a bold, fearless man, and an enthusiastic naturalist.
He was past the prime of life, and being a bachelor, was unencumbered
with a family. His first act on reaching the site of the new
settlement was to commence the erection of a block-house, to which the
people might retire in case of a general attack by the Indians.

In this block-house Major Hope took up his abode as the guardian of
the settlement. And here the dog Crusoe was born; here he sprawled in
the early morn of life; here he leaped, and yelped, and wagged his