170Even the hard-hearted trader was touched with her sad fate, and we are credibly informed that he said he was sorry he had taken her. The marriages of her daughters which had so delighted her ambition, had not brought her all the happiness she expected. Three openings loomed up before them鈥攖he most distant one, to the left, a broad half-rapid, half-cascade, sweeping down among islands of pines; the middle passage seemed very narrow and carried away in a sort of creamy foam the waters of the Chaudiere proper; while the nearer or right passage led by a winding route to a rocky cove at the beginning of the portage road. Surely never had they beheld anything so picturesque, so indescribably grand, as it appeared to them on that bright and frosty evening! The precipices and rocky gorge of the opposite shore, green with pine and cedar to the river's brink, and covered with a mantle of beautiful snow; the volume of water, tossed, broken, dashed into foam, which floated down like miniature icebergs on the mighty rushing current till the natural ice-bridge was reached, made a scene not soon to be forgotten. The turrets, domes and battlements of the Dominion House of Parliament, which in a few short years was destined to crown the opposite cliffs, were a dream beyond the wildest imagination of our Pioneer. 东京热影院-天天操操操-91国产精品-一夜七次影院青青 F茅lise entered a smelly little paved courtyard and gazed about her helplessly. She had imagined such another decent little house as her aunt鈥檚, at which a ring at the front door would ensure immediate admittance. In this extraordinary dank well she felt more lost than ever. Paris was a bewildering mystery. A child emerged from some dark cavern. "O'Jawa," said the superior, addressing a young Indian girl, "will you come forward and see if this letter is written in one of the Iroquois or one of Algonquin dialects?" The Indian led them through a path to the river, where they found an old carpet-bag filled with cash, a common grain sack containing family plate, a bag of provisions, and a valuable gun. "The White Chief of the Ottawa" is not fiction. It is not a tale with a carefully concealed plot, meant to delude the reader at the beginning and to surprise him at the end. It is something stranger than fiction, a sketch of the life experiences of Philemon Wright and his family, the first settlers in the district of Ottawa. With the exception of the love of Abbie and Chrissy, which are based upon fact, the story is mainly a simple recital of actual facts which cannot be controverted.