wilderness home. The land lifted gradually back to the high hills, all
covered with a dense forest. Eastward, toward the point, the trees
were thinner, and in some spots the land had been cleared, evidently by
early French settlers. To the northwest the water extended inland in
the form of a marshy creek, with a fair-sized brook beyond, flanked on
both sides by high hills.

It wanted but two hours to sunset when the passengers were landed, and
their household effects brought ashore. It was a busy time, for
camping sites had to be chosen, underbrush cleared away, and tents
pitched. But men and women alike worked with a hearty good will.
There was something thrilling and invigorating in this new and strange
life. It was most restful after the tumult and distractions of war,
the unpleasant ocean voyage, and the landing at desolate Portland
Point. The warmth and brightness of the day, the fragrance of the
forest, and the happy laughter of children racing along the sandy shore
charmed and inspired the parents' hearts. Even Old Mammy forgot for a
time her gloomy forbodings, and was quite cheerful as she helped Jean
to unpack some of their household belongings.

The Colonel had pitched his tent in a snug retreat several rods back
from the water. When the last peg had been driven securely into the
ground, he stepped back to view the effect.

"How does that suit you, dear?" he asked, turning to Jean who was
standing near by.

"I think it is great, daddy," was the enthusiastic reply. "This is the
happiest and most peaceful time I have known for years. It is like a
perfect calm after a terrible storm."