146 AUDUBON THE NATURALIST. 



me, and from it I receive my spring and summer 

 sustenance." 



Struck with the reply, Audubon desired a 

 frirther acquaintance with his new companion, 

 and accordingly accepted the .'nvitation to his 

 abode. Low and small it was, formed of stones, 

 plastered with mud. The roof was composed 

 of a sort of thatching of weeds and moss. A 

 large Dutch stove filled nearly one half of the 

 place — a small port-hole served as a window. 

 The bed was a pile of deer skins. A bowl, a 

 jug, and an iron pot placed on a rude shelf, three 

 old and rusty muskets, their locks fastened by 

 thongs, stood in a corner; and buck-shot, powder, 

 and flints were tied up in skins. Eight Exqui- 

 maux dogs leaped about this uninviting abode. 



With the courtesy of his nation (for the rustic 

 of these wilds was a Frenchman) he invited his 

 guest to refreshment, and Audubon, during the 

 preparation of his repast, wandered out of doors 

 to enjoy the glorious landscape afforded by the 

 majestic scenery around, ornamented by a mar- 

 vellous luxuriance in plants and grasses, which 

 clothed the valley where the settler dwelt con- 

 tentedly in his chosen home. There, through- 

 out ten returning dreary winters, he had resided, 

 subsisting on the annual sale of furs, eiderdowns, 

 and seal-skins, to the traders who sought their 

 merchandise in these inclement regions. 



