John's river, that I am as familiar with the idea of
a boat, as if I had been born in one. Only think now, ma belle," he said,
turning to Catharine; "just think of the fish--the big ones we could get if
we had but a canoe to push out from the shore beyond those rush-beds."
"It strikes me, Louis, that those rush-beds, as you call them, must be the
Indian rice that we have seen the squaws make their soup of."
"Yes; and you remember old Jacob used to talk of a fine lake that he called
Rice Lake, somewhere to the northward of the Cold Springs, where he said
there was plenty of game of all kinds, and a fine open place, where people
could see through the openings among the trees. He said it was a great
hunting-place for the Indians in the fall of the year, and that they came
there to gather in the harvest of wild rice."
"I hope the Indians will not come here and find us out," said Catharine,
shuddering; "I think I should be more frightened at the Indians than at the
wolves. Have we not heard fearful tales of their cruelty?"
"But we have never been harmed by them; they have always been civil enough
when they came to the Springs.
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