THE ARGUMENT.

Edward encamps with Susan amongst the woods, where, finding himself without provisions, he before sun-set, accompanied with his dog, shoots several curlews, plovers, &c.; and on his return to the tent he meets Susan in the woods with a bundle of birch-bark, which she afterwards makes up into torches; and by her great skill in fishing she procures a large supply of salmon and eels. A supper follows. The dog is put upon his watch; and after a few observations betwixt Edward and Susan, the lovers are left to themselves for the night.

THE INDIAN.

CANTO V.

To raise the fire demands young Susan's care;

This useful task falls to the female share :

Fast from the flint the latent matter flies,

And strikes the punk that tinder-box supplies

Some rotten wood, to crumbling powder made, 5 Around the punk with forest art is laid;

A birch-bark torch on top of all she lays,

When one smart puff sets up the crackling blaze: By ancient law her share of work is done,

And Edward now for clumsier sticks must run; 10

The tomahawk must quit the hunter's side,
And bulky logs to noted lengths divide,
For that bless'd fuel can nightly hours beguile,
And make the Indian 'midst his forests smile.
The camping poles th' uplifted axe await,

15

And infant trees too early meet their fate;
Their tender limbs with bleeding pores abound,
And mangled branches strew the leafy ground:
Beneath the shade the whigwham poles arise,
Which with a roof Susannah's hand supplies; 20

The furnishing remains too at her will,

And verdant sofas, show her Indian skill.

Tho' now the tent displays its form complete,

There's not a bite for hungry souls to eat,

When Edward, startled at the want of fare,

And sure (he says) your race can't live on air!
Susannah hears him with a careless smile,
And lights her pipe fresh at the blazing pile;

Then to the youth with modest accents said:
"What foolish thoughts thy restless breast invade!
Our ancient laws, in depth of wisdom plan'd, 31
Inform us all within our happy land,

That various ills life's chequer'd scenes adorn,
And Indian minds must thirst and hunger scorn:
To lay in stores our wand'ring race despise;

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In chance alone we trust for fresh supplies :
Precarious fate 'midst laughter can defy,
And here of hunger none was known to die.”
The wheeling globe was hastening on the sun,
When from a tree young Edward snatch'd his gun,
And with his dog, whose looks lamented speech,
With quicken'd pace he makes a sandy beach;
Behind whose hills some stretching marshes lay,
Where putrid steams the potent heats obey.

The plover's note first strikes his list'ning ear, 45
Then plaintive more the curlew's wail could hear;

F

With fowler's step he treads the swampy ground,
And near and nearer draws upon the sound:
A whisp'ring curse th' impatient dog must curb,
Lest some rash act the latent game disturb;

For instinct learn'd can scarcely stand the shock
That strike his senses from a well-oil'd lock.
Now flutt'ring joy at ev'ry step mounts higher,
And round the fowler sings the living mire;

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Some thousand wings in wild commotion rise, 55 While ev'ry drop on mortal errand flies;

From right to left successive runs the view,

And both the shots a bloody course pursue :
The busy dog, called Obigat to name,
Fulfils his part, and brings the dying game;
To one dry spot collects the scatter'd slain,
And piles them careful on the marshy plain.
The list of dead the anxious Edward counts;
To fifteen fowls the bleeding heap amounts:

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