“These little fellows are the sons of a poor man who came out this summer, and who has taken up some wild land about a mile back of us, towards the plains.  Clark is busy logging up a small fallow for fall wheat, on which his family must depend for bread during the ensuing year; and he is so anxious to get it ready in time, that he will not allow himself an hour at noon to go home to his dinner, which his wife generally sends in a basket to the woods by his eldest daughter.

“Last Wednesday the girl had been sent on an errand by her mother, who thought, in her absence, that she might venture to trust the two boys to take the dinner to their father.  The boys were from seven to five years old, and very smart and knowing for their age.  They promised to mind all her directions, and went off quite proud of the task, carrying the basket between them.

“How they came to ramble away into the woods, the younger child is too much stupified to tell; and perhaps he is too young to remember.  At night the father returned, and scolded the wife for not sending his dinner as usual; but the poor woman (who all day had quieted her fears with the belief that the children had stayed with their father), instead of paying any regard to his angry words, demanded, in a tone of agony, what had become of her children?

“Tired and hungry as Clark was, in a moment he comprehended their danger, and started off in pursuit of the boys.  The shrieks of the distracted woman soon called the neighbours together, who instantly joined in the search.

“It was not until this afternoon that any trace could be obtained of the lost children, when Brian, the hunter, found the youngest boy, Johnnie, lying fast asleep upon the trunk of a fallen tree, fifteen miles back in the bush.”

“And the other boy?”

“Will never, I fear, be heard of again,” said she.  “They have searched for him in all directions and have not discovered him.  The story little Johnnie tells is to this effect.  During the first two days of their absence, the food they had brought in the basket for their father’s dinner, sustained life; but to-day it seems that the little Johnnie grew very hungry, and cried continually for bread.  William, the elder boy, he says, promised him bread if he would try and walk further; but his feet were bleeding and sore, and he could not stir another step.  William told him to sit down upon the log on which he was found, and not stir from the place until he came back, and he would run on until he found a house and brought him something to eat.  He then wiped his eyes, and bade him not to be frightened or to cry, and kissed him and went away.

“This is all the little fellow knows about his brother; and it is very probable the generous-hearted boy has been eaten by the wolves.  The Indians traced him for more than a mile along the banks of a stream, when they lost his trail altogether.  If he had fallen into the water, they would have discovered his body, but they say that he has been dragged into some hole in the bank among the tangled cedars and devoured.