thing on our side of the settlement to such a degree in thick smoke, and suffocating dust and steam, that we could not see a yard before us. Being driven by it to seek shelter, we returned towards home, which we had left at the distance of some two or three hundred yards to join the other settlers. It was by this time almost dark, and the squally night, after the disaster we had witnessed, filled my wife with such anxieties, that she repined at having consented to come so far into the wilderness.

This was the first time she had ever expressed any thing like dissatisfaction, and I chided her a little for being so cast down, hurrying her at the same time, with our youngest child in her arms, towards the house; but who can tell what I suffered when, on approaching the door, which was still open as it had been left, we beheld the roof on fire in several places? There was no time for talk; I called her to place the child on the ground, and to assist me to get out the ark and boxes: this we effected before the boys came to us, but nothing could save the house. In the course of a few minutes it was all on fire; our expense and toil, our care

and consideration, all perished. Thus, instead of the snug and comfortable habitation to which we had looked forward so eagerly, we were cast out on the forest, and obliged to call in our neighbours to assist, amidst the darkness and squalls, to raise a shanty for the night. Nevertheless, I was none dismayed; but, on the contrary, my courage rose, and my wife, regretting the discontent she had unwittingly expressed, was thankful when we took possession of the sorry shed, that she had met with so little to complain of.

Such were the signs and tokens under which we took up our abode at Babelmandel.

CHAPTER VI.

"The gentle moon looked pale at the sad sight."

NEXT day was the Sabbath, the oldest of blessings, the poor man's day. By me it has ever been regarded with delight, for I have enjoyment in the solemnity wherewith we are commanded to observe it. The day of rest, the property of individual man; no master may exact labour from his servant on that day, nor may the willing slave exert his sinews in toil without sinning against himself; for his own frame, after six days' labour, is needful of rest, and hath been enjoined to receive it by a hallowed and everlasting ordinance. Yet, though thus profoundly impressed with reverence for the sabbath, the sun, at his rising, beheld me

busy amidst the fallen trees which had been spared from the burning, selecting logs for the construction of a new habitation.

The season was far advanced; it was already September, and unless I could provide a house before the rains set in, it would be necessary to move my family back to Olympus. The expense I could ill afford; for the payment of the first instalment on my land-I promised to pay by equal annual instalments in seven years—and the cost of bringing us from New York, together with various necessaries we stood in need of for the winter, had grievously lightened my purse; moreover, the baby was taken ill during the night, and it was heart-breaking to look upon her lying on the ground, and to reflect on the miserable tabernacle of sticks and bark raised in the storm, which was all our dwelling: but whether I offended by yielding to the suggestions of those temporal griefs, is a question remitted to a higher tribunal than the judgment even of Christian men.

In the course of the day I picked out a sufficient number of logs, contracted for bringing them to the spot, and for help to knotch them

for joining. Thus, by day-break, on Monday, my new house was progressing, and it was well I had been so alert; for many of our neighbours' houses having been destroyed by the fire, the hire of teams, and the rate of carpenters' wages were, in the course of a few days, much increased.

Had it not been for the sickness of the child, I was not disposed to contemplate our misfortune as of a very dark hue. The weather was clear and fair, the work went on thrivingly, and an unwonted hilarity sparkled in my bosom. But the poor thing daily grew worse, and at last her mother became seriously alarmed.

There was then no doctor at Babelmandel, a sad omission, and deplorable to humanity; for no one thing is so necessary in a new settlement, where accidents occur so often, and sickness is so rife; so that, seeing the evident decay of the poor child, I resolved to go to Olympus to consult the medical man there, and to bring him out with me, if, upon considering the case, he should think it was requisite to see her. Accordingly, with my second son, Charles, I set out on the Friday morning, in order that we might be back in the course of Saturday. I