a proverb; and when the natives speak of those who are only friends of the purse, they say: 'Oh, as for him, he is not worth the dog of Renaudin.'

A little spaniel survived a whole family who were fondly attached to him. The father, the mother, two grandchildren, and three sons, were successively attacked by the plague which raged at Marseilles, and they all died in the space of seven or eight days. As, one by one, these unfortunates were carried to the grave, the disconsolate animal followed their coffins, and returned to the house, sending forth the most lamentable howls. When the last of this family was entombed, the inconsolable spaniel would not remain in the house, which was now inhabited by strangers, who, charmed with his good disposition, lavished every kindness on him: he only came every two or three days to take a little food, immediately after which he returned to the cemetery, and on this account, the affectionate animal received the name of the Dog of the Tombs. It is the custom in that country for every one to have a separate grave. During the seven years that this grateful animal lived, he remained constantly stretched on the tomb of his masters; and as he had been caressed by all, he divided amongst them, by turns, his profound and sincere regrets. It was remarked, however, that he had a particular predilection for the grave of the youngest son, who was cut off at the age of seven years, and who had lavished on him a thousand infantine caresses. This faithful animal mourned over the grave, and tried to tear up the earth with his feet, as if seeking to rejoin his young friend. Touched with this instance of gratitude and affection, the neighbouring villagers often conducted their children to the place of sepulture of this virtuous family, to shew them a beautiful example of constancy and gratitude, as exhibited by the Dog of the Tombs.

ADVENTURES OF A HIGHLAND OFFICER IN THE AMERICAN WAR.

In a late visit to the Highlands, and while residing with a friend in a secluded situation near the shores of Loch Ness, the following little narrative, descriptive of the adventures of an officer in the American war, was related to me by one of the young persons of the family. It appeared so interesting, that I immediately wrote it down, and now present it to the world, almost word for word as it was narrated:

'Uncle Charles was a fine, tall, handsome-looking youth, about nineteen, when he decided upon going into the army; and a commission having been procured for him in the gallant 42d, he left home to join the regiment, which in the course of a few months embarked at a very short notice for the American provinces, betwixt which and Great Britain a regular war had commenced. Mrs Grant, whose favourite son Charles was, parted from him with great regret; but having fortified his mind by good principles and the best example, she committed him to the care of Providence. Charles had lost his father when he was quite a child, so that he was left entirely to the instruction of his mother; and it was fortunate that she had such a soil whereon to sow the good seed, that produced the fruits that will be seen in his adventurous life.

'The regiment arrived safe at New York; and as soon as the soldiers had recovered from the voyage, they were ordered to march into the interior, to join their brethren in arms, as the officer commanding the troops in that part of the country understood that the Americans had prevailed upon a tribe of Indians, from Lake Michigan, to aid them against the British. The chief of this tribe had become well known to the Americans, as he and his followers

were in the habit of visiting the frontiers yearly, to exchange their furs, fish, and other products of their country, for firearms, powder, and shot, which were most useful to them; so that the Americans found it no difficult matter to engage Michigan John and his tribe as an ally in the war; and John, who was a man of no common mind, not only picked up sufficient of the English language to make himself intelligible, but he had a powerful mind, and ruled over his tribe with despotic sway. The Indians, who were well acquainted with every foot of the country, were found by the Americans to be invaluable; and an ambuscade was planned to entrap the 42d ere it could reach its destination. They were only too successful; for, in marching through a wood, the 42d was attacked suddenly, and taken at a great disadvantage. From behind the trees, the deadly rifle laid low many a brave fellow; and, fearing to be cut off to a man, a retreat was sounded, with the hope of returning to more open ground; and the dreaded warwhoop of the savages could hardly fail to strike terror into the minds of soldiers who had never encountered such a ferocious-looking enemy.

'The Americans being aware that the loss of their officers would render the men a more easy conquest, took aim accordingly; and Charles, who nobly stood his ground, was singled out by the Indian chief, and he fell severely wounded; and the Indians rushing into the mêlée, began to strip the dead and scalp the dying. Michigan John, who had perceived that Charles was an officer from his dress, advanced to where he lay, and, raising his head by the long hair, he lifted the deadly tomahawk, and, whirling it round, he was on the point of scalping his victim, when my uncle moved one of his arms, as if to put his hand upon the wound; and Indian John, finding he still breathed, spared his life. Summoning four of his tribe, they hastily cut down some branches from the trees, and, making a sort of litter, my uncle having had a bandage tied over his wound, he was placed in the litter, and by nightfall the Indians were on their

way to Lake Michigan, laden with the booty which the Americans and they had divided. Some days elapsed ere they reached their home, the poor captive so weak and exhausted by the loss of blood, that he could hardly make the smallest exertion, and it required all the care of the Indian chief to keep him alive.

'The warriors were received with shouts of triumph by their wives and companions, who had remained to guard their encampment, mingled with cries and lamentations for those who had fallen in battle. My uncle, upon the arrival of the Indians in the Michigan territory, was taken to the wigwam of their chief, and herbs were gathered and applied to his wound, so that he gradually recovered; and in the midst of such kind-hearted savages he felt exceedingly grateful, but above all to the chief. But one may imagine his horror and dismay, when John informed him that his life was only preserved that he might be offered up as a sacrifice to the manes of those who had been killed on the day of the battle. To have met with death in the field would have been little compared with the fate that awaited him, and his entreaties that the chief would at once put an end to his life, were not listened to. John replied, it was the custom of the tribe, and that he ought not to have invaded the land of the Red Men; and my uncle perceiving that there existed not the smallest chance of escape for him, endeavoured to prepare his mind for the trial that awaited him; and he employed many hours of the day, and in the silent watches of the night, in praying for fortitude and strength to die as a Christian, from the only source at which it can be found.

With a composure of manner and appearance which even to himself appeared somewhat unnatural, my uncle saw the preparations that were taking place, and was relieved in a great measure by learning that he was not to be put to torture, but that he was to be shot a favour that he did not expect. His manly bearing and amiable manners had softened the heart in some degree of old John, and he would gaze with a steadfast and thoughtful

look, when in a corner of the wigwam he saw the young white-skin speaking to the Great Spirit, and heard the earnest petitions of the young soldier for his mother, and for forgiveness of his own sins; and old John felt how proud he would have been of such a son to succeed him as chief of the Michigans.

'At length, my uncle having recovered, a day was fixed, and the whole tribe were assembled in their war-dresses, the women and children shouting and singing the deathsong, as John, accompanied by his captive, appeared; and the chief making a short palaver to his followers, they all followed their leader to the wood that adjoined their encampment; and a tree being selected for the purpose, my uncle was placed against it, John having granted him the favour that he should not be bound, nor his eyes covered, saying he was not afraid to look death in the face, and hoping that the Indian would take so sure an aim as to be fatal at the moment. John loaded his rifle; and when the signal was given, he presented it at his victim. The trigger was pulled, but the powder flashed in the pan. With an impatient air, John examined his rifle, put in fresh powder, and again presented. Again was the attempt unsuccessful. A third time would surely finish the affair, for the flint was sharpened, and fresh priming put in the pan. The rifle again missed fire. Anxiety, doubt, and consternation sat upon every face, as the chief looked round upon his tribe. As if struck by the thought of the moment, he raised the gun in his hand, and fired in the air, when it exploded with a tremendous noise, as the Indians gave out cries and shouts of surprise.

'After a pause of a few minutes, and silence had been restored, the chief addressed them. "My children, it's of no use to kill this white-skin: he is protected by the Great Spirit. When did you see the gun of Michigan John miss fire? The Great Spirit says: No. Listen, my children: I have no son, and this young white-skin shall become as one to your father. When I am old, and go to the land of my fathers, he shall be your chief. We