he, that several persons passed by without rendering him any assistance.
At length one of his own tenantry, coming by, took him into Charlotte Town
in a cart, but was obliged shortly afterwards to leave the island, to
escape from the vengeance which would have overtaken the succourer of a
tyrant. Tracadie was shot at five or six different times. Shortly after my
arrival in the island, he went to place his daughter in a convent at
Quebec, and died there of the cholera.

One day, with a party of youthful friends, I crossed the Hillsboro' Creek,
to visit the Indians. We had a large heavy boat, with cumbrous oars, very
ill balanced, and a most inefficient crew, two of them being boys either
very idle or very ignorant, and, as they kept tumbling backwards over the
thwarts, one gentleman and I were left to do all the work. On our way we
came upon an Indian in a bark canoe, and spent much of our strength in an
ineffectual race with him, succeeding in nothing but in getting aground.
We had very great difficulty in landing, and two pretty squaws indulged in
hearty laughter at our numerous failures.

After scrambling through a wood, we came upon an Indian village,
consisting of fifteen wigwams. These are made of poles, tied together at
the upper end, and are thatched with large pieces of birch-bark. A hole is
always left at the top to let out the smoke, and the whole space occupied
by this primitive dwelling is not larger than a large circular dining-
table. Large fierce dogs, and uncouth, terrified-looking, lank-haired
children, very scantily clothed, abounded by these abodes. We went into
one, crawling through an aperture in the bark. A fire was burning in the
middle, over which was suspended a kettle of fish. The wigwam was full of
men and squaws, and babies, or "papooses," tightly strapped into little
trays of wood. Some were waking, others sleeping, but none were employed,
though in several of the camps I saw the materials for baskets and bead-