These Louis afterwards smoothed with great care and patience.

Their bedsteads were furnished with thick, soft mate, woven by Indiana and Catharine, from rushes which they cut and dried; but the little squaw herself preferred lying on a mat or deer-skin on the floor before the fire, as she had been accustomed.
A new field had been enclosed, and a fresh crop of corn planted, and was now green and flourishing.

Peace and happiness dwelt within the loghouse;--but for the regrets that ever attended the remembrance of all they had left and lost, no cloud would have dimmed the serenity of those who dwelt beneath its humble roof.
The season of flowers had again arrived,--the earth, renovated by the fire of the former year, bloomed with fresh beauty,--June, with its fragrant store of roses and lilies, was now far advanced,--the anniversary of that time when they had left their beloved parents' roofs, to become sojourners in the lonely wilderness, had returned.

Much they felt they had to be grateful for.

Many privations, it is true, and much anxiety they had felt; but they had enjoyed blessings above all that they could have expected, and they might, like the Psalmist when recounting the escapes of the people of God, have said,--"Oh that men would therefore praise the Lord for his goodness, and the wonders that he doeth for the children of men." And now they declared no greater evil could befal them than to lose one of their little party, for even Indiana had become as a dear and beloved sister; her gentleness, her gratitude and faithful trusting love, seemed each day to increase.