"
"We must not forget to keep watch-fires."
"What shall we do for clothes?" said Catharine, glancing at her home-spun
frock of wool and cotton plaid.
"A weighty consideration, indeed," sighed Hector; "clothes must be provided
before ours are worn out, and the winter comes on."
"We must save all the skins of the wood-chucks and squirrels," suggested
Louis; "and fawns when we catch them."
"Yes, and fawns when we get them," added Hector; "but it is time enough to
think of all these things; we must not give up all hope of home."
"I give up all hope? I shall hope on while I have life," said Catharine.
"My dear, dear father, he will never forget his lost children; he will try
and find us, alive or dead; he will never give up the search."
Poor child, how long did this hope burn like a living torch in thy
guileless breast. How often, as they roamed those hills and valleys, were
thine eyes sent into the gloomy recesses of the dark ravines and thick
bushes, with the hope that they would meet the advancing form and
outstretched arms of thy earthly parents: all in vain--yet the arms of thy
heavenly Father were extended over thee, to guide, to guard, and to sustain
thee.
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