Project Gutenberg's Young Lion of the Woods, by Thomas Barlow Smith This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Young Lion of the Woods A Story of Early Colonial Days Author: Thomas Barlow Smith Release Date: July 2, 2005 [EBook #16181] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOUNG LION OF THE WOODS *** Produced by Early Canadiana Online, Robert Cicconetti, Thomas Hutchinson and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net YOUNG LION OF THE WOODS; OR A Story of Early Colonial Days. BY THOMAS B. SMITH. Here in Canadian hearth, and home, and name;— This name which yet shall grow Till all the nations know Us for a patriot people, heart and hand Loyal to our native earth, our own Canadian land! —Chas. G.D. Roberts. HALIFAX, N.S.: NOVA SCOTIA PRINTING COMPANY. 1889. Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year 1889, by THOMAS B. SMITH, at the Department of Agriculture. Dedication. TO MY WIFE I DEDICATE THIS, MY FIRST WORK, WITH MY LOVE. PREFACE. The only merit that the writer claims for the following pages is, that they contain a record of facts, setting forth the sacred sentiments of duty, religious trust, and the spirit of liberty, amid sufferings-and hardships of persons, whose loyalty was put to the severest test. It has been beautifully said, "that he who sets a colony on foot designs a great work." "He designs all the good, and all the glory, of which, in the series of ages, it might be the means; and he shall be judged more by the lofty, ultimate aim and result, than by the actual instant motive. You may well admire, therefore, the solemn and adorned plausibilities of the colonizing of Rome from Troy, in the Eneid! Though the leader had been burned out of house and home, and could not choose but go. You may find in the flight of the female founder of the gloomy greatness of Carthage a certain epic interest; yet was she running from the madness of her husband to save her life. Emigration from our stocked communities of undeified men and women, emigration for conquest, for gold, for very restlessness of spirit, if they grow toward an imperial issue, have all thus a prescriptive and recognized ingredient of heroism. But when the immediate motive is as grand as the ultimate hope was lofty, and the ultimate success splendid, then, to use an expression of Bacon's," "the music is fuller." In the hope that the privations and heroic conduct of those who are the subjects of the story, in the following chapters, may prove as interesting to the public as they did to the writer, when he first learned the history of such heroism, the writer submits them to the reader. JANUARY, 1889. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. FIRST EXPERIENCE OF COLONIAL LIFE, 1769-70. CHAPTER II. TRADING,—TROUBLE,—RETREAT. CHAPTER III. ARRIVES OFF FORT FREDERICK—PAUL GUIDON. CHAPTER IV. TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE AT SEA. CHAPTER V. CAPT. GODFREY AND LORD WM. CAMPBELL.—YOUNG LION OF THE WOODS. CHAPTER VI. IN ENGLAND.—THE CAPTAIN AND THE LORDS. CHAPTER VII. ARRIVAL AND RETREAT. CHAPTER VIII. REBEL PLANS—PRAYING THE LORDS. CHAPTER IX. PAUL GUIDON. CHAPTER X. MARGARET GODFREY ARRIVES IN NOVA SCOTIA.—DEATH OF THE YOUNG LION OF THE WOODS. CHAPTER XI. MARGARET GODFREY'S FAREWELL. CHAPTER XII. MARRIAGE OF LITTLE MAG.—SOCIETY AT HALIFAX. A CONCLUDING CHAPTER. THEN, NOW, AND TO BE. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER The records of the lives and actions of those who have preceded us in the procession of the generations, are full of instruction and interest. In many instances they hold up to our emulation great models of patriotism, patience, endurance, activity and pluck. It is to be regretted that many documents of past ages have been destroyed through lack of knowledge of their real value, and of the light they would have thrown upon the early history of the country. Some few, regarded merely as the relics of departed ancestors, have been so secretly kept and treasured, that dust, must and rust have all but completely defaced them. If our ancestors had been wise in preserving the papers of their fathers, long ago there might have been collected from such documents, and displayed, many particulars of positive information concerning the very early history of the English in Acadia. We might have possessed a much fuller history of the times when great difficulties and dangers opposed the settlers. When rushing rivers had to be crossed without boat or bridge; when men and women often found it necessary to contend single handed with Indians; and when, for meeting the many obstacles that placed themselves in their path, our ancestors were often but poorly equipped. Whilst we take pride in the hardships cheerfully borne by our forefathers in the early colonial days, may we not be sometimes inclined to forget those fleet-footed, clever, dusky sons of the forest, to whose generous aid they were not infrequently indebted for protection from hostile men and savage beasts, and even sometimes for sustenance? When we have secured positive information that now and again there have appeared among the brawny men of the forest noble specimens of all that is true and kind, let us not fail to record their deeds of faithfulness and heroism. The least we can do for such is to bring to light their actions and preserve their history. When beneath the shade of the forest, on the trackless desert, on the rushing river, in tempest and thunder, or when watching in the vicinity of an old fort or near the log cabin of the early colonists, the Red man has been found a faithful friend and guide; should not his deeds of kindness, faithfulness and bravery be recorded side by side with those of the noblest of the human race? The story related in the following chapters has been gathered from facts stated in time-worn documents, which have been lying for generations concealed in a wooden box. The only regret of the writer is, that it was impossible for him to gain access to all the old musty and defaced papers in the box. The old gentleman, in whose possession they were found, is very old and eccentric, and by no effort or persuasion could the writer induce him to part company with the documents, but for a short time. But although the task of procuring them was extremely difficult, and that of deciphering them afterwards was both difficult and tedious, still the satisfaction of having rescued from decay and destruction, what seems so interesting, is satisfaction sufficient for the writer. That portion of the documents relating the events in connection with the first and second settlement of an English officer and his family, during the last century, in a district which is now said to be one of the most beautiful portions of Canada, is most instructive and interesting, although at times, while deciphering it, the writer felt his blood quicken in its pulsations, and tears forcing their way to the surface. A few years previous to this English officers first attempt at settlement in Nova Scotia, he came out to Quebec with his regiment. The remaining portion of this introductory chapter will narrate some events in connection with the early life of the officer, his coming to Quebec with his regiment, his short stay there, and his return to his native country:— On board the transport Pitt, in the year 1765, at Cork, embarked Captain Godfrey with his regiment, the 52nd foot, for Quebec, North America. On the passage the Pitt was wrecked in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, where Captain Godfrey with his regiment suffered many hardships. The ship ran ashore in a dense fog, which had prevailed for several days. The Captain remaining by the wreck for eleven days, assisted in saving the lives of the soldiers wives and children, and in landing the King's stores. The transport struck well up the gulf on the Nova Scotian coast (now New Brunswick). The exact locality is not stated. The night of the disaster was densely dark, and soon after striking the ship began to pound and leak badly. Had the wind sprung up during the hours of darkness not a soul on board would have lived to record the tale. Very early the next morning, as Captain Godfrey was standing on the quarter deck, conversing with the officer in charge of the ship, the rain began suddenly to descend in torrents and the wind to freshen. The mist that had enshrouded the ship for so many days, began to lift, and the sun shone through by instalments. Soon it was seen that the Pitt was hemmed in by rocks, almost wedged in among them. Fortunately the storm soon abated, and the situation of the vessel kept her in an upright position. The fog settled down again, and for the next ten days all on board were kept busy in saving their effects and the King's stores. At the end of ten days all on board were taken off. General Murray, commanding at Quebec, by some means not recorded, having heard of the disaster, sent a man-of-war schooner to the relief of the sufferers, and they were safely conveyed to Quebec. Captain Godfrey, through exposure and fatigue, contracted a severe cold, and at last, his life being despaired of, the surgeon of the regiment advised his return to England. He applied to General Clavering for leave of absence, or to grant him permission to sell out of the army. The permission being granted, he soon set about preparing to leave Quebec, and rejoin his wife and five children in England. Captain Godfrey notes in a memorandum his great sorrow in parting from his regiment, and that his zeal for serving his King and country was so great that nothing but extreme weakness would have induced him to part from his regiment and King George the Third's service. Before leaving Quebec to return home to his native land, Captain Godfrey visited the spot where, six years before, the gallant Wolfe had poured out his life's blood in the service of his King and country. Here the Captain knelt and offered up to Him who guides the stars in their courses, thanksgiving for the brilliant and decisive victory gained by the British arms. The following is from one of his memoranda:—"As I stood, and as I knelt where Wolfe fell, I more than ever realized what it is to be a brave soldier and a good man. As I rose from the spot I whispered to myself, if I am, through the providence of the Almighty, allowed to once again visit my native land, I will go to the widowed mother of General Wolfe and tell her where I have been and what I have seen. That I have stood on the very spot where victory and death gave the crowning lustre to the name of her great son." Charles Godfrey was born at St Ann's, England, in the year 1730. The following, copied from an old document, gives a brief sketch of his early career:—"Was put on board His Majesty's ship Bedford, Capt. Cornwall master, in the year 1741, and in 1742 went out to the Mediterranean. In 1743 was at the siege of Villa Franca, where with a large party of seamen was ordered on shore, and quartered at a six gun battery, under the command of Capt. Gugger, of the Royal Artillery. Was at the battle of Toulon, with Admirals Matthews and Lostock, on board said ship Bedford, then commanded by George Townsend. Was at the taking of several rich ships off the Island of Malta, which ships and their cargoes were afterward restored to the Genoese. Continued in the navy till the peace of Utretch, and for sometime subsequently. Afterward, a warrant being procured, attended the Royal Academy at Woolwich as a gentleman cadet, in which station was allowed to remain till 1755. Received a commission, and was appointed to the 52nd foot, by the recommendation of His Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, who was afterwards pleased to recommend me for a Lieutenancy, and a few years later my friends procured for me a Captaincy." 1Captain Godfrey returned to England on board a transport from Quebec. This young officer appears to have been highly respected by the different Generals and Field Officers under whom he had served. He was presented, shortly after his arrival in England, with a certificate of character, signed by Lieut.-Genl. John Clavering, Colonel of the 52nd Regt., Lieut.-Genl. Edward Sandford, Lieut.-Genl. Sir John Seabright, Major-Genl. Guy Carleton, Major-Genl. John Alex. McKay, Lieut.-Col. Valentine Jones, Lieut.-Genl. Burgoyue, and Major Philip Skene. The above has been copied principally for the purpose of showing that the following story has for its characters those who once lived and moved in the early English colonial life of Acadia. If the districts and places where the events related in this book occurred could speak, they would tell nearly the same thrilling and extraordinary story. In many of these localities great and important changes have taken place through a century and a quarter of time, but the records of the past remain unchanged. Our barns may be built over the graves of the Indians, and our houses on the sites of their wigwams; our cattle may graze upon the hillsides and valleys of their hunting grounds, and our churches may be erected on positions where the Red men of the forest gathered together to invoke the blessing of the Great Chief of the everlasting hunting ground, yet what is truly written of the past must remain unalterable. NOTE.—The wrecked transport Pitt was named, it is said, in honour of the Earl of Chatham; and tradition states that one of the boats of the ship drifted from the wreck and went ashore at a point of land near where the town of Chatham now stands, the ship's name being painted on the boat; and from this circumstance Chatham, on the Miramichi River, received its name. CHAPTER I. FIRST EXPERIENCE OF COLONIAL LIFE, 1769-70. Captain Godfrey's health gradually improved after his return to his native country. When he thought himself sufficiently recovered he felt anxious to embark in some branch of business, and not feeling inclined to do so in England, he purchased a grant of land from Lynge Tottenham, Esq., this land was situated on the bank of the River St. John, Nova Scotia. In the early part of the year 1769, after three years of rest, Captain Godfrey purchased various kinds of merchandize, which he was advised were best adapted to the colonial trade. He freighted a vessel in London, and embarked with his wife and family for Halifax, in the month of June, 1769. On the passage out the weather was usually fine, but the progress was slow, and nothing remarkable occurred on board during the sixty-two days they were in crossing the Atlantic. Soon after landing at Halifax, Captain Godfrey heard that the Governor of Nova Scotia, (Lord William Campbell,) required some person of experience to enter into possession of Fort Frederick, situated at the mouth of the River St. John, and take charge of the arms, ammunition, and all other of His Majesty King George the Third's stores. He had an interview with the Governor and was appointed to take charge of the fort. After having secured the appointment at Fort Frederick, he concluded to commence trading operations at that post, and gave bonds to the governor in the sum of one thousand pounds for the privilege of carrying on a legitimate business with the settlers and Indians.2 After spending the winter at Halifax, he chartered a brig in the month of May, 1770, and then putting on board his goods and stores sailed for Fort Frederick with his wife and family. On his arrival at the fort he carefully surveyed the situation and concluded that he would abandon the idea of trading there. He found no one at the fort to assist him in protecting it, and a few days after his arrival the Indians became so troublesome and threatening that he found it would be impossible to remain there, protect the fort single-handed, and carry on trading operations successfully. One afternoon the Indians appeared before the fort in numbers, threatening that if the place was not vacated at once they would murder the occupants. They then made a rush and got within the enclosure, and soon after retired. Captain Godfrey had fortunately purchased from the master of the vessel in which he brought his merchandize to the fort, a small boat. The boat had been securely moored at the island below the fort. The day following the assembling at the fort the savages again appeared and attempted to steal the boat, and would have done so had not Mrs. Godfrey succeeded in reaching the shore in time to discharge a musket at the thieves. The Redskins pulled the boat to the spot where she stood, but Mrs. Godfrey never moved from the position she had taken. When the Indians were in the act of jumping on shore she ordered them to take the boat back to the place from whence they had loosed it. One of the Redskins, a tall, muscular fellow, who could speak some English, asked her if she would get into the boat and go with them. If so, the boat would be taken back and made fast. She replied, "I have no doubt you are an honest man and would do no injury to a weak, pale-faced woman, I will go with you." And as she said these words, she sprang into the boat and sat down, resting the musket upon her knees. The Indians paddled the boat back to the place whence they had loosed it, and not one of them uttered a word. After the boat had been made fast Mrs. Godfrey was assisted ashore by the tall, muscular savage, his four companions walking away without saying a word. They were soon joined by their tall, muscular friend, and a few minutes later all were lost to view among the trees on the shore. Mrs. Godfrey retired to the fort, where she was warmly congratulated by her husband for the tact and courage she had displayed in presence of the savages. She replied, "the Indians seemed completely taken aback when I jumped into the boat and had not recovered from their surprise when they parted from me, and while I was sitting in the boat, the deep, black eyes of the tall, muscular fellow looked straight and steady at me, and at times I felt as though they were piercing me through and through." The evening was a solemn one at Fort Frederick. The Captain and his wife talked over their situation, and the children were restless, the slightest noise about the place making the little ones tremble like aspen leaves. The Captain and his wife agreed that it would be useless, while the Indians were so troublesome, to remain at the Fort and attempt to transact business with the settlers, who were few indeed. As they sat together that night in the Fort by the dim light of a flickering candle, expecting every moment to be disturbed by the war-whoop of the savages, Captain Godfrey said to Margaret, (for such was the name of his wife,) "our situation is serious." She replied, "I believe it to be most dangerous." "What move would you propose," asked the Captain. Margaret answered, "I would propose to return to Halifax, if it be possible to get there." The Captain then said to his wife, "What do you think about going to Grimross Neck where our grant of land is?" Margaret replied, "I am your wife, whatever you think best to do, do it, and I will follow and support you to the best of my ability." She then, together with her husband and children, knelt in the lonely Fort and asked Him who had guided and protected them thus far not to forsake them in their present situation, but to guide, instruct and lead them in the future. She rose on her feet, walked across the small, dingy apartment, kissed each of the children, then taking her husband by the hand, said to him, in a clear and decided voice, "Whither thou goest I will follow, where thou resteth I will rest, and where thou settlest there will I be found with thee." And in presence of the children God had given them, they bound their hearts to suffering and death. Fatigue and fear had overcome the little ones, and in a short time they were sleeping soundly upon the floor. After some further conversation between the Captain and his wife, it was agreed that he should attempt to proceed before dawn in the little boat to Annapolis Royal, and there, if possible, purchase a small vessel suitable to convey his goods and family up the river to his grant of land. At four o'clock he secretly and alone left the fort, waving with his hand an adieu to his wife, as he stepped out of the door. He carried with him to the boat a camp blanket which he intended to hoist as a sail. At four o'clock, thirty minutes, he was on his way. As the little boat passed the island at the mouth of the harbour a breeze sprang up. He hoisted the sail, making it fast to one of the oars, which was used as a mast; the other oar being brought into play for steering purposes. Captain Godfrey had been fortunate in bringing with him from England several small compasses and two larger ones, one of the latter he took with him. A gentle but fair breeze followed the little ship from land to land. The Captain found great difficulty in sighting the entrance to Digby Bay, where he arrived safe and sound at eleven o'clock the following morning. The next day he proceeded to Annapolis Royal arriving there at noon, where he purchased a large sloop, and without delay got his boat on board and next day at the turn of tide sailed for Digby. Here he took on board some water, and after waiting several hours for a fair wind sailed for the mouth of the St. John. At ten o'clock, a.m., June 30th, he set sail to recross the Bay of Fundy and rejoin his wife and family at Fort Frederick. He arrived off the harbour the following morning quite early, but was unable to anchor off Fort Frederick, till the evening on account of fog. On arriving at the Fort he was greatly relieved of apprehensions that would obtrude themselves upon him during his lonely trip by finding his wife and children all well. The following day he commenced to get his merchandize on board the sloop. His wife and eldest son assisting. It took fully ten days to accomplish the task, which proved to be a tedious and toilsome one indeed. At last, everything being ready, he vacated Fort Frederick and sailed for his possessions up the river, intending there to settle and trade. Not many hours after they had left the Fort the report of a musket was heard from the shore. Soon a canoe was seen approaching the sloop. As it came near the vessel, an Indian was seen as its only occupant. He paddled his canoe alongside the sloop. Captain Godfrey attentively watched his every movement while Mrs. Godfrey seemed quite indifferent at the presence of the stranger. She threw him a small line and made signs to him to make fast his canoe, which he appeared quickly to understand. Mrs. Godfrey then motioned to the Indian to come on board, and he at once bounded over the rail. As he stood on deck, his comely Indian features were lit up by a good humoured smile. He looked a giant, brave and active. He was teeming all over with youthful vigour. His eyes were black like polished jet, sparkling and deep set. His mouth large, square and firm; and his hair like threads of coarse, black silk, brushed back from a low, narrow forehead, hung loosely down over his broad, square shoulders. His whole frame seemed stirred with a strong nervous action, and a quick but expressive motion of his small brown hand appeared as a signal for conversation. He at once spoke, "May be if go to Grimross be scalped," and every word brought with it increased action of both hand and body. He continued, "Indians say war coming, must have pale face blood and scalp." Capt. Godfrey said not a word, but looked serious and pale; while deep anxiety was pictured on every feature of his face. He felt that it was no use to retreat, and situated as they were, where could they retreat in safety. Fort Frederick at the mouth of the river had been surrounded by blood-thirsty savages, who had threatened them with fire and murder if they did not abandon the place. In this distracting situation Captain Godfrey held a council of war within himself, and finally decided, come what might, evil or good, he would push on to his destination. He wondered how the Indian knew he was bound for Grimross. It occurred to him that perhaps the savage was trying to find out where he intended to land, and there be on hand to murder all on board and seize the sloop and cargo. He thought, "if the Indian is sincere in warning us, what interest has he in doing so? What could he expect in return for his kind act?" These and many similar thoughts rushed quickly through the agitated brain of the Captain. The Indian stood silent and motionless for a moment, then returned to his canoe and paddled toward the shore. The eyes of Captain Godfrey followed the Red man to the shore and watched him until he disappeared among the trees on the river bank. The sloop was kept on her course up the river. Just after the sun had sunk beneath the horizon, Captain Godfrey, by the persuasion of his wife, anchored the sloop in a small recess in the shore. From the time the Indian had reached the bank the Captain's wife scarcely ever lifted her eyes from gazing on the right bank of the river. Was she watching for a place to safely anchor at night? Or was she watching for the Indian's return? These questions were agitating the Captain's thoughts. Captain Godfrey had never fully recovered from a weakness to his nervous system, caused by the severe hardships he had endured in the Gulf of St Lawrence. He was strongly opposed to anchoring the sloop so near the shore. He felt fearful that during the long watches of the night all on board might be murdered. The armament of the vessel consisted of two muskets, two pistols, and a sword. Her cargo was valued at over two thousand pounds sterling. She was deeply laden, and it was with great difficulty that all the goods and chattels had been stowed on board; several boxes and bundles being closely packed and lashed on deck. After everything had been made snug on board, sails furled, &c., the Captain and his wife asked the blessing of the all-seeing One during the hours of the night. The Captain was very tired, and the events of the day had not added to his comfort. His wife persuaded him to go into the small cabin and rest. She promised to call him if the least danger appeared. She said that she was only too willing to stand as sentinel until the sun-rise. It was only through a knowledge of the determined spirit, good judgment, quick eye, and self possession of his wife that he was induced to retire to rest. The children unconscious of the dangers surrounding them, were nestled together in the small cabin like young birds in a nest. During four long hours nothing unusual occurred to break the stillness of the night. The rustling of the leaves on the trees not many yards distant, and the rippling of the water were all that could be heard, a dense darkness, a blackness doubly deep appeared to settle over and around the little vessel. The sentinel placed her soft white hand close to her face but could not even distinguish its outlines. At this moment there flashed through her mind the words, "Watchman, what of the night." The words were accompanied by a hand gently laid upon her shoulder. She remained as motionless as a statue in the gloom. A gentle breath whispered in her ear, "me Paul;" "come tell you Indians on other bank river;" adding strength to the expression by taking her hand and pointing it to the opposite bank. He then again whispered, "Fire gun next setting sun, where stop," and then suddenly left her side, and she saw nothing more that night of Paul Guidon, for such was the Indian's name. Captain Godfrey, after his many days of toil and anxiety, slept so soundly that he did not wake till the sun had risen. As soon as breakfast was over, and a chapter had been read from an old family Bible, which had accompanied four generations of the Landers through this vale of tears, sorrows and joys, and a short prayer read from an old service book, presented to Captain Godfrey by General Murray at Quebec, the sloop was got under way and proceeded on her voyage, the wind being fair and light. The prospect was not one to gladden the hearts of the voyagers, though the day was fine and sky clear. The progress was slow. Captain Godfrey was in better spirits than on the previous day, the quiet night and refreshing sleep had somewhat braced him up. The children sat on deck during the day, chatting, playing and singing, while their mother, dauntless and buoyant in spirit, retired to rest in the little smoke-box of a cabin. She knew that very much depended upon her behaviour and courage in safely reaching Grimross Neck. She closed her eyes with the whispered words upon her lips, "I will follow what I believe to be the path of safety, and I will tread it with a firm and unfaltering footstep, praise to the Great King who sent us Paul Guidon in the thick darkness to watch over us from the river's bank. It brings to my remembrance what I have read in the Book of books, of Pharaoh's daughter standing at the river's brink and rescuing the babe, and seeing that no harm befell it." Little progress was made during the day. An hour or two before the shadows of evening had begun to fling their leaden mantle around the sloop, Mrs. Godfrey appeared on deck. Perfect stillness seemed to reign on every hand; even the little craft appeared to be half asleep, so lazily did she move along. All above and about stretched the wondrous beauty of the sky; the deep blue clouds, as the day wore away, becoming tinged with gold, contrasted in loveliness with the green of earth. Not a sound was there to stir the perfect stillness except the rippling of the water against the vessel. As Margaret sat beside her husband on that lovely evening of July, the deep feelings that were stirred within her soul seemed to find their natural outlet, as she turned to her husband and said, "this seems like a glimpse of some better world." He replied, "it appears as though we are sailing through a land of perfect rest." "I trust we are, though we sail through a country peopled with savages." She replied, "To-day we beheld the sun in his glory, and strong in his power, now he is departing, but I trust as we continue to sail o'er the ocean of time, guided by the King of Pilots toward a land where glory never fades, and where the True Light never grows dim, our passage may continually be lit up by the reflecting rays of the Sun of Righteousness." As she finished speaking a bright light flashed on the starboard shore, quickly followed by the report of a musket. The Captain, starting at the report, remarked, "perhaps that Indian (Paul) has been watching and following." Here the Captain's words were cut short by a loud cry from one of the children and the sound of a splash. Little Jack, the fourth child, had tripped against the forward rail and gone overboard. His mother, almost as quickly as the flash of a gun, threw herself overboard at the stern of the sloop, holding on to the rail with her hands and calling to the little fellow to catch hold of her dress, as the tide carried him toward her. He was too far out to reach her skirt, and the running water carried him by her. She immediately let go both hands and floated from the vessel, and made a desperate effort to reach her boy. The Captain, almost beside himself, put the helm hard down, and was in the act of plunging in. Meantime his wife and son were drifting farther away. Just then, making a second desperate effort, she succeeded in grasping her child. At this moment a canoe shot like an arrow past the sloop, in it was Paul Guidon, paddling with might and main, making straight for the drowning mother and her boy. In another minute he had the child grasped firmly in his long sinewy arms, and laying his breast and head over the stern of the canoe, he called to the mother to grasp at once his long hair as its ends fell into the water. He managed to get the child safely into his canoe, but he experienced great difficulty in saving its mother. She drifted fully one hundred yards, but all the distance holding stoutly to the Indian's locks. With all the strength of Paul Guidon he was not able to get Mrs. Godfrey into the canoe. Once he nearly succeeded, but almost upset his little bark. He told her to cling tightly to his hair, as he shoved the paddle over her head, and at last he got the canoe to move slowly ahead, and in a few minutes time he was at the side of the sloop, and the mother and child were rescued from a watery grave. The Indian would not go on board, and as soon as he saw that the mother and child were likely to recover, he pulled away to the shore. The child soon recovered, but the mother lay upon the deck for some time in a half unconscious state. At times a quiet happiness seemed singing in her soul, that often broke into words of praise as the vessel drifted along in the stillness. On the right and left slept the country with its wooded hills and dales. As Margaret Godfrey recovered she said, "Charles, we appear to be sleeping on to our destination." "Yes," he said; "but perhaps that Indian has been watching and following us, hiding among the trees along the shore; and as we have been going slowly all day, he could with ease keep way with us. He may now consider us far enough away from the fort to decoy and murder us, seize our vessel and goods, and no suspicion rest upon him as the murderer and robber." "It may be that he has accomplices on our track; a band of savages to quietly dispose of us and seize our possessions." As he spoke these words he appeared much more agitated than on the previous evening. Margaret replied, "God's will be done! We must anchor at some point to-night—Why not anchor here? At the earnest solicitation of his wife, Captain Godfrey consented to run the sloop toward the shore and anchor. After a lengthened discussion between the Captain and his wife upon the question of keeping watch during the night, Margaret carried her point, and soon after stood alone on the deck. The reader, doubtless, will wonder why Margaret expressed so strong a desire to keep watch through the long, lonely hours of darkness. Before the conclusion of the story is reached, he will have found out the reason. Soon all was hushed, gross darkness had gathered over the face of nature, and the eyes of the beloved on board were closed in sleep. At about midnight Margaret was slightly startled at hearing a footstep on deck. "Paul," she whispered, "is that you." "Me," he answered in a low, soft tone. "Most Indians away, far up country after game, and not come back few days." Paul Guidon was a sub-chief, and one of the bravest of the tribe over which he exercised some authority. He was feared and respected by all the tribes of the St. John. He had used all his cunning and power to pilot the sloop safely to her destination. He had for several days spread the report that large herds of caribou and moose had appeared in a part of the country forty miles west of the St. John River. The Indians took the bait and had suddenly left in pursuit of the game. Before leaving the deck Paul advised Margaret to get the vessel under way at daylight next morning, in order that the journey might be completed before the next setting of the sun. He then took Mrs. Godfrey by the hand and raising it to his broad breast passed it firmly over his quickly throbbing heart, and almost instantly turned and shot from her presence like an arrow in the darkness. Very early in the morning the sloop was made ready to proceed on her voyage. The wind was blowing stiffly and fair, the little vessel reached along and arrived at her destination at five o'clock in the afternoon. The anchor was let go between an island and the river's bank. Thanksgiving and praise were offered on board for past mercies and supplication for continued guidance. Neither was Paul Guidon forgotten, for Margaret breathed a silent supplication to Him who can soften and subdue the savage breast, to guide, control and direct the life and steps of her benefactor. CHAPTER II. TRADING,—TROUBLE,—RETREAT. After landing at Grimross, Captain Godfrey looked about to find his lot of land. Lot No. 14 he found belonged to a Captain Spry, lot No. 15 to a Reverend Smith, and his own lot he found to be No. 16. These lots were all facing the St. John river, and extending back parallel with each other. In looking over the plan of the lots, it appears that Captain Godfrey settled on No. 14, Spry's lot, and on this lot he commenced trading operations in an old house situated not far from a stream leading from a lake on his own lot to the St. John. On Captain Godfrey's lot were two small log houses, one occupied by a person named Sayhon, and the other by a man named Crabtree. It may be, that the Captain settled on Spry's lot because he could trade here to the best advantage. Here he commenced business after expending forty pounds, sterling money, in repairing the log house and adding a store room, made of solid logs. About the middle of September, 1770, he opened out his wares and began business. A few days later several Redskins came to his shop and warned him to move away from the place, threatening, if he did not do so, to burn his buildings and goods. The Indians did not trouble him further until the middle of November, when about thirty of them came to his place of business with beaver, otter, raccoon, mink and other skins. These he took in exchange for blankets, powder and other goods, the Indians appearing well satisfied with the exchange. About a fortnight later the Indians again returned in numbers, accompanied by a white man who acted as spokesman. The white man, a peculiar looking character, with one eye looking due north and the other due east, from beneath a forehead very much resembling that of a monkey, stuttered out to Captain G.: "We-e-e-e co-co-mé t-t-to war-war-warn you t-to g-g-g-git ou-out. Th-the la-lan-lands ar-are Free n-sh le-le-lands, an-and th-the In-in-d-dans we-we-will dri-dri-drive aw-all de-de-damd E-e-en-glis way, an-an gi-gi-give the-the-em b-b-b-back to Fre-e-e-nsh." The Indians and their low-browed, cross-eyed spokesman then left the Captain's place of business without uttering another word. On Christmas day, 1770, or about one month after their last visit, eight of the Indians, accompanied by two squaws, returned to the store at Grimross Neck and whooped out in tones of fury, "Fire, blood, scalps." Captain Godfrey immediately barred his shop door, and also the door of his house, seeing that the savages were bent on mischief. The children were inside the store and house, and were terrified and trembling. At length the Redskins became so excited and noisy and so wild in their movements, that the place seemed like a pandemonium. They were- armed, each one having a knife about ten inches in length stuck in his belt. Captain Godfrey consulted with his wife as to the wisest course to be pursued, but no definite line of action was arranged. The two old muskets were in the bedroom, loaded, not having been discharged since they were fired off on leaving Fort Frederick. The Captain's wife ran to the room and brought out both guns into the kitchen. She handed one to her husband remarking, "if the brutes attempt to force their way into the house shoot the first one that puts his moccasin over the door sill." At this time the howling, yelling and cursing of the blood-thirsty fiends would strike terror into the stoutest heart. Finally they took up a large stick of wood that was lying near the kitchen door and made a desperate attempt to smash it in. Mrs. Godfrey, who had stood near the door for sometime, appeared calm and decided amid all the murderous clamour. She stepped back a pace, and placing the butt of the musket against her hip, with the muzzle slanting upwards, stood firm as a statue. The door was soon forced and the fiends came tumbling in. Mrs. Godfrey fired, the charge going over the heads of the savages and entering the ceiling above the door. The Indians in the rear seeing their comrades fall, and thinking they were killed by the shot, at once retreated uttering terrible threats of vengeance. One of the squaws, a short, stout old creature, was so terrified by the report of the musket and the falling to the floor of the three Indians, that in her bewildered retreat she tumbled headlong down a steep, stony bank and laid as if dead on the ice below. She was left by her companions, who travelled as fast as their legs would carry them. The old squaw was found and taken prisoner by Mrs. Godfrey. Her nose and one rib were broken, her left arm dislocated at the elbow, and both her eyes completely closed with heavy shutters. She presented a pitiable appearance, as she staggered along toward the house supported by her captor. The Indians were so completely surprised and cowed by the courage of Mrs. Godfrey that they never came back to look after the wounded squaw, or sent to inquire whether she was living or dead. As soon as the old squaw began to recover, Mrs. Godfrey found out that the old woman could speak some English. She said she was a widow about sixty years old. That her husband had been killed at Fort Pitt in 1763. Her only son had been taken prisoner by the English at Fort Pitt, and had afterwards remained nine moons with an English officer in New York. The officer went away to England and wanted her son to go with him, but on the eve of the officer's departure he ran away, soon got on the trail of his mother, and at last found her at Detroit living with a band of Iroquois. Not long afterward she and her boy wandered from post to post and camp to camp until they at last got over among the tribe on the St. John, where they had made their home among a strange tribe for the past two years. Her son did not respect the tribe with whom they lived. He had often told her that these Indians were not pure bloods. Her son was sixteen years old when taken prisoner at Fort Pitt. She had always been called Mag, but when any of the tribe addressed her, it was by the not very respectful addition of "Old Mag." Her boy had gone toward the setting sun to be with a party of English officers on a hunting excursion, he had left her in September and would not return for some moons. Captain Godfrey and his family rested in comparative peace for some weeks, and Mrs. Godfrey drew from Old Mag many stories respecting the manner of life among the various tribes of American Indians. About one month after the old squaw had been captured, she began to appear exceedingly dull and dispirited. The Captain's wife said to her one morning, "Mag, are you ill," "No! no!" she replied, "me no sick to-day," "bad dream some nights ago. Saw all Indians outside house, and big black devil's spirit come into them, black spirits come out woods, and fire on their heads, all went into Indians and made them dance war, yell and whoop and burn house." All went fairly well until the 26th February, 1771, when the red men again appeared at the premises of the Captain. They were armed, and their actions seemed to be in keeping with Old Mag's dream. Their shrieks, yells and war-whoops were terrible, they acted like demons. The children hid under the beds and held on to the garments of their parents. The terrified little ones trembled like leaves in an autumn breeze. Spirits let loose from the regions of the damned could hardly present a more devilish appearance than did the savages. They were armed with muskets. Old Mag, who was crouching in a corner of the kitchen, shook with fear, her teeth were chattering, and she appeared like a person badly affected with fever and ague. The Redskins, about twenty in number, ran round and round the house roaring like wild beasts thirsting for gore. Charlie, the Captain's eldest boy, came rushing into the kitchen screaming out that two of the Indians were making a fire at the store door. Captain Godfrey ran to the shop, looked out of the window and was horrified to find the side of the building in flames. A minute after he had left the kitchen two of the red devils broke in the door, Mrs. Godfrey, with Charlie holding on to her skirt, had taken up a position in front of Old Mag, as the charging enemy came toward her, she fired. There was a yell, as of death. Captain Godfrey had placed the other musket in Old Mag's lap, Mrs. Godfrey instantly seized it and quick as a flash again fired and the door way was cleared. In a few moments the smoke had cleared away. Two human forms lay across the door sill and one within the kitchen. These were the bodies of one dead and two dying Indians. The dead man was completely scalped, the whole top of his head being torn off. The other two were so terribly mutilated about their faces and necks that they lived but a few minutes. Forty minutes after Mrs. Godfrey had fired the first shot scarcely a vestige of anything remained on the spot where the house had stood. As soon as the savages were aware that three of their comrades had fallen in the assault, they beat a hasty retreat. Let the reader pause for a few moments to consider the situation of Captain Godfrey, his wife and their five children. There they were alone in the wilderness, thousands of miles from friends and home. Out in the cold, amid the frost and snow of an Acadian winter, without a house to shelter them, a friend to cheer them, or a fire to warm them; surrounded by demons of the forest, panting and thirsting for their blood. There was no possible escape by water, the St. John was covered by a thick winding sheet of ice, and the sloop was lying some miles away in an icy bed of a lake. The history of early colonial life does not and cannot present a more affecting scene than that of the Godfrey family, as they stood alone on the banks of the river St. John in the midnight of a Nova Scotian winter. All that was saved from the flames were several pieces of half-burnt pork, the two old muskets, a few half-burnt blankets, one hundred and forty pounds of beaver skin, between two and three hundred weight of gunpowder, the old family Bible and service book, and a trunk containing some papers and old clothes. The above articles Captain Godfrey and his son, at the risk of their lives, saved from complete destruction. In an hour the little band of early settlers was reduced from comfortable circumstances to a misery beyond the power of words to express. Darkness would soon cover the spot of desolation. But five hours of daylight were left in which escape could be made. They knew not in which direction to flee for shelter. The Captain consulted with his brave partner, but all seemed dark; no way of escape presented itself. To remain where they were during the coming night meant death. There were only two log houses in the district and they were miles away. Finally Mrs. Godfrey assembled her shivering children about her and read aloud the twenty-third psalm, and closing the old service book she said to her husband, let us no longer tarry here, let us make haste towards the sloop. As they were about to start, it suddenly occurred to Mrs Godfrey that Old Mag was missing. The Captain had not seen her since he placed the musket in her lap. The children had not seen her since the burning of the house, and Mrs. Godfrey had not seen her after she had taken the musket off her lap. The old squaw's absence caused a delay in setting out for the sloop. As no trace of Old Mag could be found, it was the opinion of both the Captain and his wife, that she had either perished in the flames or had slipped out of the kitchen before the smoke had cleared away and followed the Indians in their retreat. Neither the Captain nor his wife would leave the locality without making a search for Old Mag. During the search, Captain Godfrey, whose strength had been severely tested since his arrival at Grimross in July, sank to the ground in a swoon. At this crisis his wife displayed the greatness of her character. As troubles thickened about her she seemed to develop qualities that only woman cast in an heroic mould are capable of exhibiting. She whispered to her husband, "We cannot find Mag, I must save you." These words appeared to have a magic effect on the Captain. He rose to his feet, supported by his wife, and soon after they were staggering on towards the river leading to the lake, followed by their five children, the eldest, who was but twelve, carrying with him his youngest brother, only two years old. At length they reached the lake, and at this point of the journey Mrs. Godfrey was compelled to order a halt. She was heavily handicapped, having a large shawl tied across her shoulders filled with the burnt pork and some blankets. After a few minutes rest they were again tugging along towards their little ark. As the light of the sun gradually faded away, the little band of colonists tried to quicken their pace, but they tried in vain. They were so exhausted that it was with great difficulty they kept on their feet. The children were more dead than alive, and the approaching darkness filled them with terror. Their mother would say to them, "Keep along, follow closely, the moon is rising, we shall soon have plenty of light." In this manner they toiled on till midnight, when they reached the sloop. Fortunately for the little band of wanderers, Captain Godfrey had left on board the vessel a small Dutch stove and a number of broken boxes. A fire was soon made, some of the burnt pork was sliced and put in a pan and fried for the night's meal. But the children sank to rest soon after getting on board, and lay huddled together on th...