eye, his light foot, his quick ear, his power of endurance, to cope with the instinctive sagacity of one of the most wary of the deer tribe. With some brother officer for a companion, or alone, attended by his faithful old Indian, Joe Coape, the hunting party would set out; tracing the forests and desolate barrens; camping at night under the giant hemlocks; and sleeping, with their feet towards the bivouac fire, upon beds of aromatic spruce branches. He loved the stately grandeur of those northern forests, strewn with huge fragments of rock; a perfect network of trunks; across whose fallen forms cushions of moss and lichens formed a treacherous carpet, the favourite bed of the sweet pyrola and the trailing linnæa; the whole was thoroughly congenial to him. During his novitiate in this sport he describes one of these excursions:

"17th October.

"I have been moose-hunting again, and with not much better success. I determined to go alone, and took three Indians. We started off about twenty miles from here, and then struck into the woods. The first night we called, but heard no moose; the second morning I was awakened by one of the Indians pushing me, and saying, 'Moose coming.' I jumped up and listened, and soon heard him coming through the wood; breaking the branches with his horns, and answering us. Two of the Indians then beckoned to me to follow them. We laid down by the side of a narrow bog. The moose came nearer and nearer, but I could not see him for the grass; at last the Indian said, 'Moose smell us, shoot, shoot,' so up I jumped and took a hurried shot at his head, and actually missed him!

One of the Indians then fired and missed; and I had the infinite satisfaction of seeing him bound off into the wood again, untouched. I was furious at missing him; but you won't know till you have tried what it is to shoot at a moose. I was so nervous that I almost forgot myself, and the Indian made me more so, by hurrying me to shoot. He was a very large one, with uncommonly fine horns. After this misfortune, we eat our breakfast, and then went on further. Suddenly one of the Indians stopped, I hear moose.' I listened very attentively, but could not hear a sound. He said, 'There's bull and cows

-we try shoot.' We took our packs off and followed them a little way, and soon heard them distinctly, and then we commenced creeping. I could now see the branches moving where the moose were, but could not see them, it was so thick; at last the Indian raised his gun and fired: I rushed forward, and passed an enormous brute kicking on the ground, but the cows had run off, and it was so thick I could not see to get a shot. I stayed out four nights longer, but we had no luck, and I went home. I shall not go out again till the first snow, when there are plenty of cariboo as well. People say Halifax is the best quarter out of England. I think it detestable in every respect. I have not been out once since I have been here. I want you or E✶✶ ✶ to look out for me a couple of hard-working spaniels, as they are the only dogs that are of any use. There is a fair sprinkling of woodcocks."

About two years later, while on one of these hunting expeditions, two incidents occurred which made a deep

ILLNESS IN THE WOODS.

23

and permanent impression on Maxy Hammond's mind; the dawn indeed of those convictions which, at a not much later period, by the blessed work of the Holy Spirit, led to the 'bringing in of a better hope.'

These two incidents are thus described by a brother officer who was Maxy Hammond's companion: "I was attacked by a violent malady, incidental to the swampy and unhealthy districts to which our sporting propensities had attracted us, and being far beyond any medical assistance, I naturally caused a good deal of anxiety, and no little alarm to my fellow-sportsmen. There was no alternative. We had to halt on the ground, and send one of our party some 200 miles for advice, and allow the fever to run its course. The utter helplessness of my condition, the solitude of the woods, the unavailing efforts of my companions to relieve me, appear to have exercised a great effect on Hammond; and in a conversation I had with him years afterwards, I found that the impression caused by that illness in the silent woods, had never entirely left his mind. . . . . At the time, I would not allow my sufferings to interfere with the sports of my companions: and as watching for game by night was a great part of the sport, I used to be left at three o'clock in the afternoon, to allow them to get to a distance from our camp before night-fall, and they seldom returned before twelve o'clock; thus leaving me alone till assistance came by the woodman whom we had despatched. He, poor fellow, travelled day and night, and never rested until he had returned with such medicines as a doctor could recommend for a patient he could never see. In after days, I was enabled, personally, to repay that debt of gratitude. It was in reference to one of these

dreary nights, and in a conversation I had with Hammond, at a future period, that he earnestly, but most feelingly, expressed to me his desire that I should not let such a warning pass. He himself had a very narrow escape of his life in crossing a torrent with a very heavy load of moose-meat, upon a single tree, accidentally fallen across the stream. He lost his balance, and had not a hanging branch arrested his fall, though nearly breaking his leg, his fate was inevitable; and all present looked upon his destruction as certain. The fallen branch merely held on long enough to allow the Indians to come to his rescue; when it gave way, and fell into the torrent below. The very insignificance of the means of rescue left a deeper impression; and from that time he dated his determined seizure of the means of escape for himself from a greater if not so apparent a danger."

"He was the Freeman whom the Truth made free:

Who burst the bonds of sin; and for his soul
In spite of fools consulted seriously:

In spite of fashion, persevered in good:
Who did as Reason, not as Fancy bade:

Who heard Temptation sing, and yet turn'd not
Aside; saw Sin bedeck her flow'ry bed,
And yet would not go up; seeking one thing
Alone, the approbation of his God.

A heart by God's renewing spirit touched,
A Christian heart awaked from sleep of sin,
A soldier, listed in Messiah's band."

POLLOK'S COURSE OF TIME.

HITHERTO, in the bustle and gaiety of a garrison, Hammond had had no difficulty in passing his time from day to day, if not with satisfaction, at least with unconcern. But it was not to be so long. Already the events above related had made a strong impression. There was an unsatisfied feeling, a longing after happiness stealing over him, which the excitements of this life will not, cannot bring. Like the wise man, he had said in heart: "Go to, I will prove thee with mirth, therefore enjoy pleasure; and, behold, this also is vanity." Now a new voice startles