II. KILLOOLEET, LITTLE SWEET-VOICE. 



HE day was cold, the woods 

 were wet, and the weather 

 was beastly altogether when Kil- 

 looleet first came and sang on my 

 ridgepole. The fishing was poor 

 down in the big lake, and there 

 were signs of civilization here 

 and there, in the shape of set- 

 tlers' cabins, which we did not 

 like ; so we had pushed up river, 

 Simmo and I, thirty mjles in the 

 rain, to a favorite camping ground 

 on a smaller lake, where we had the wilderness all to 

 ourselves. 



The rain was still falling,' and the lake white- 

 capped, and the forest all misty and wind-blown 

 when we ran our canoes ashore by the old cedar 

 that marked our landing place. First we built a 

 big fire to dry some boughs to sleep upon ; then we 

 built our houses, Simmo a bark commoosie, and I a 

 little tent ; and I was inside, getting dry clothes out 



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