



Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




Afar in the Forest, by W.H.G. Kingston.

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This is not a long book, but is very much in the Kingston style, that
is, the style he employs when writing about land-based adventures, as
opposed to sea-based ones.

It is quite difficult to follow who is who in this story, and why they
are doing what they do. I suggest that you use a pen and paper to jot
down people's names as and when they make their appearance.

But there are some surprises regarding who is related to whom, a device
which Kingston uses quite often.

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AFAR IN THE FOREST, BY W.H.G. KINGSTON.



CHAPTER ONE.

OUR HABITATION IN THE FOREST--MY SHARE OF THE SPOILS OF THE DAY'S
CHASE--UNCLE MARK COMMENCES HIS NARRATIVE--WHY MY UNCLES DECIDED TO
EMIGRATE--LANDING IN SAFETY, THEY START UP COUNTRY--THEIR MEETING WITH
SIMON YEARSLEY, AN OLD SETTLER--THE SETTLEMENT IS FOUND IN RUINS--LILY
AND I RESCUED--UNCLE MARK PROMISES TO RESUME HIS NARRATIVE ON THE FIRST
OPPORTUNITY--MY LOVE OF NATURAL HISTORY--UNCLE MARK CONTINUES HIS
NARRATIVE--YEARSLEY GOES IN PURSUIT OF THE INDIANS--THE BURIAL OF LILY'S
MOTHER--THE RETURN TO THE WAGGON--THEY REACH THE NEAREST SETTLEMENT--
ALARM OF THE SETTLERS UPON HEARING OF THE OUTRAGE COMMITTED BY THE
INDIANS--UNCLE STEPHEN'S MARRIAGE--CONCLUSION OF UNCLE MARK'S
NARRATIVE--LILY AND I GO BERRYING--WE ARE ATTACKED BY A WOLF--KEPENAU
SAVES OUR LIVES--HIS PRESENT OF VENISON TO AUNT HANNAH--KEPENAU'S BELIEF
IN THE GOODNESS OF THE GREAT SPIRIT--THE INDIAN'S ADVICE.

"Is Lily not Uncle Stephen's daughter, then?"  I asked.

The question was put to my uncle, Mark Tregellis, whom I found seated in
front of our hut as I returned one evening from a hunting excursion--it
having been my duty that day to go out in search of game for our larder.
Uncle Mark had just come in from his day's work, which had been that of
felling the tall trees surrounding our habitation.  He and I together
had cleared an acre and a half since we came to our new location.

It was a wild region in which we had fixed ourselves.  Dark forests were
on every side of us.  To the north and the east was the great chain of
lakes which extend a third of the way across North America.  Numberless
mountain-ranges rose in the distance, with intervening heights,--some
rugged and precipitous, others clothed to their summits with vegetation.
Numerous rivers and streams ran through the country; one of which, on
whose banks we purposed building our future abode, passed close to our
hut.  Besides the features I have described, there were waterfalls and
rapids, deep valleys and narrow gorges penetrating amid the hills; while
to the south-west could be seen, from the higher ground near us, the
wide prairie, extending away far beyond human ken.  Wild indeed it was,
for not a single habitation of white men was to be found to the
westward; and on the other side, beyond the newly-formed settlement in
which Uncle Stephen resided, but few cottages or huts of the hardy
pioneers of civilisation,--and these scattered only here and there,--
existed for a hundred miles or more.

Uncle Mark, having lighted the fire and put the pot on to boil, had
thrown himself down on the ground in front of the hut, with his back to
the wall, and was busy contemplating the dark pines which towered up
before him, and calculating how long it would take, with his sharp axe,
to fell them.

I had brought home a haunch of venison as my share of the spoils of the
chase (in which I had joined Uncle Stephen); and it was in consequence
of a remark made by him while we were out hunting, that I had somewhat
eagerly asked at Uncle Mark the question with which this story opens.

"No; Lily is