"They
called her Alice! Elsie or Alice; 'tis all the same. A laughing,
playful child she was, when happy; and tender and weeping in her
misery! Her hair was shining and yellow, as the coat of the young
fawn, and her skin clearer than the purest water that drips from the
rock. Well do I remember her! I remember her right well!"
The lip of the youth slightly curled, and he regarded the old man with
an expression, which might easily have been construed into a
declaration that such were not his own recollections of his venerable
and revered ancestor, though it would seem he did not think it
necessary to say as much in words. He was content to answer--
"They both retained impressions of the dangers they had passed, by far
too vivid easily to lose the recollection of any of their fellow-
actors."
The trapper looked aside, and seemed to struggle with some deeply
innate feeling; then, turning again towards his companion, though his
honest eyes no longer dwelt with the same open interest, as before, on
the countenance of the other, he continued--
"Did he tell you of them all? Were they all red-skins, but himself and
the daughters of Munro?"
"No.
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