in a southerly course toward the Nashwaak. The gentle breeze favored
her progress, and as she sailed along, the snow danced like frozen
feathers around her.

"Oh, how nice!" cried little Bessie.

"Yes, this clear, fresh, cold air gives one new life," said Mary
Matilda.

They now came to the Nashwaak, on the farther bank of which were
crouched a pack of hungry musquashes eagerly awaiting the approach of
Mary Matilda and little Bessie.

"Hush," whispered the old big musquash. "Make no noise or they will
hear us and make good their escape." But just then another musquash
carelessly trod on the big musquash's tail and the old musquash
roared with pain.

"What was that?" cried little Bessie.

Mary Matilda had heard the strange cry. She paused to listen. Then
she saw the pack of musquashes in the snow on the farthest bank of
the Nashwaak. Oh, how frightened she was! but with a shrill cry she
seized Bessie in her arms, and, turning swiftly about, fled in the
direction of McLeod hill. The musquashes saw her retreating, and with
a howl of commingled rage and disappointment they started in hot
pursuit. They ran like mad, as only starving musquashes can run.
Every moment they gained on the maiden and her human charge until at
last they were at her very heels. Mary Matilda remembered she had
some beechnuts in her pocket. She reached down, grasped a handful of