spirit till day-light warned us to depart.

The next day, I started for Guelph with the Yankee mill-wright, whom I
found a clever, shrewd man. He told me he had travelled over a great
part of the Western States and Canada; but in all his wanderings he had
never seen a section of country, of the same size, that pleased him
equal to the Huron tract.

"I guess, when this country of your'n is once cleared up, and good
roads made, and the creeks bridged, there won't be such another place
in all creation."

"What makes you think so?" I enquired.

"Wal, just look what a fine frontage you have on that 'ere big pond (he
meant Lake Huron) and good harbours and land that can't be beat not no
how. All you want is 'to go a-head,' and you may take my word for it
that this will be the garden of Canada yet."

We had only one horse between us, which belonged to the Doctor, so that
we were obliged to ride turn about. In this manner we got on pretty
well, so that by four o'clock we were within two miles of old Sebach's.
The day had been excessively hot, and for the last hour we had heard
distant thunder. We, therefore, pushed on with redoubled energy, in
hopes of escaping the storm.

Ever since I had witnessed the devastating effects of the whirlwind
which passed through Guelph, and which I have described in a previous
chapter, I had a dread of being exposed in the woods to the fury of
such a tempest. In this instance, however, we had the good fortune to