They are more than a match for these casualties; how is it she has
given up so soon? Well, don't allude to it, but there is a sad
tragical story connected with that lake. Do you recollect that
beautiful curly-headed child, her eldest daughter, that she used to
walk with at Halifax? Well, she grew up into a magnificent girl; she
was full of health and spirits, and as fleet and as wild as a hare.
She lived in the woods and on the lake. She didn't shoot, and she
didn't fish, but she accompanied those who did. The beautiful but
dangerous bark canoe was her delight; she never was happy but when she
was in it. Tom Hodges, the orphan boy they had brought with them from
the regiment, who alone of all their servants had remained faithful in
their voluntary exile, was the only one permitted to accompany her;
for he was so careful, so expert, and so good a swimmer. Alas! one
night the canoe returned not. What a long, eager, anxious night was
that! but towards noon the next day the upturned bark drifted by the
shore, and then it was but too evident that that sad event which the
anxious mother had so often dreaded and predicted had come to pass.
They had met a watery grave. Often and often were the whole chain of
lakes explored, but their bodies were never found. Entangled in the
long grass and sunken driftwood that covered the bottom of these
basins, it was not likely they would ever rise to the surface.
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