A young hunter stood leaning against the gate-post of the palisades, watching the movements of the Indians, who, having just finished a long "palaver" or talk with Major Hope, were now in the act of preparing supper.

A fire had been kindled on the greensward in front of the tent, and above it stood a tripod, from which depended a large tin camp-kettle.

Over this hung an ill-favoured Indian woman, or squaw, who, besides attending to the contents of the pot, bestowed sundry cuffs and kicks upon her little child, which sat near to her playing with several Indian curs that gambolled round the fire.

The master of the family and his two sons reclined on buffalo robes, smoking their stone pipes or calumets in silence.

There was nothing peculiar in their appearance.