Indian sugar-bush. Although the favourite spot had now passed into the
hands of strangers, they still frequented the place, to make canoes and
baskets, to fish and shoot, and occasionally to follow their old
occupation. Scarcely a week passed away without my being visited by the
dark strangers; and as my husband never allowed them to eat with the
servants, but brought them to his own table, they soon grew friendly and
communicative, and would point to every object that attracted their
attention, asking a thousand questions as to its use, the material of
which it was made, and if we were inclined to exchange it for their
commodities? With a large map of Canada, they were infinitely delighted.
In a moment they recognized every bay and headland in Ontario, and almost
screamed with delight when, following the course of the Trent with their
fingers, they came to their own lake.

How eagerly each pointed out the spot to his fellows; how intently their
black heads were bent down, and their dark eyes fixed upon the map! What
strange, uncouth exclamations of surprise burst from their lips as they
rapidly repeated the Indian names for every lake and river on this
wonderful piece of paper!

The old chief, Peter Nogan, begged hard for the coveted treasure. He would
give "Canoe, venison, duck, fish, for it; and more, by and by."

I felt sorry that I was unable to gratify his wishes; but the map had cost
upwards of six dollars, and was daily consulted by my husband, in
reference to the names and situations of localities in the neighbourhood.

I had in my possession a curious Japanese sword, which had been given to
me by an uncle of Tom Wilson's--a strange gift to a young lady; but it was
on account of its curiosity, and had no reference to my warlike