in　the　carryall；　and　they　all　made　speed　to　pack　themselves　in；
  Maimie　and　her　aunt　in　front；　and　Hughie　on　the　floor　behind　with
  his　legs　under　the　seat；　for　when　once　the　minister　was　himself
  quite　ready；　and　had　got　his　great　meerschaum　pipe　going；　it　was
  unsafe　for　any　one　to　delay　him　a　single　instant。
  The　drive　to　the　church　was　an　experience　hardly　in　keeping　with
  the　spirit　of　the　day。　　It　was　more　exciting　than　restful。　　Black
  was　a　horse　with　a　single　aim；　which　was　to　devour　the　space　that
  stretched　out　before　him；　with　a　fine　disregard　of　consequence。
  The　first　part　of　the　road　up　to　the　church　hill　and　down　again　to
  the　swamp　was　to　Black；　as　to　the　others；　an　unmixed　joy；　for　he
  was　fresh　from　his　oats　and　eager　to　go；　and　his　driver　was　as
  eager　to　let　him　have　his　will。
  But　when　the　swamp　was　reached；　and　the　buggy　began　to　leap　from
  log　to　log　of　the　corduroy；　Black　began　to　chafe　in　impatience　of
  the　rein　which　commanded　caution。　　Indeed；　the　passage　of　the　swamp
  was　always　more　or　less　of　an　adventure；　the　result　of　which　no　one
  could　foretell；　and　it　took　all　Mrs。　Murray's　steadiness　of　nerve
  to　repress　an　exclamation　of　terror　at　critical　moments。　　The
  corduroy　was　Black's　abomination。　　He　longed　to　dash　through　and
  be　done　with　it；　but；　however　much　the　minister　sympathized　with
  Black's　desire；　prudence　forbade　that　his　method　should　be　adopted。
  So　from　log　to　log；　and　from　hole　to　hole；　Black　plunged　and
  stepped　with　all　the　care　he　could　be　persuaded　to　exercise；　every
  lurch　of　the　carryall　bringing　a　scream　from　Maimie　in　front　and　a
  delighted　chuckle　from　Hughie　behind。　　His　delight　in　the　adventure
  was　materially　increased　by　his　cousin's　terror。
  But　once　the　swamp　was　crossed；　and　Black　found　himself　on　the　firm
  road　that　wound　over　the　sand…hills　and　through　the　open　pine
  woods；　he　tossed　his　great　mane　back　from　his　eyes；　and　getting　his
  head　set　off　at　a　pace　that　foreboded　disaster　to　anything　trying
  to　keep　before　him；　and　in　a　short　time　drew　up　at　the　church
  gates；　his　flanks　steaming　and　his　great　chest　white　with　foam。
  〃My！〃　said　Maimie；　when　she　had　recovered　her　breath　sufficiently
  to　speak；　〃is　that　the　church？〃　　She　pointed　to　a　huge　wooden
  building　about　whose　door　a　group　of　men　were　standing。
  〃Huh…huh；　that's　it；〃　said　Hughie；　〃but　we　will　soon　be　done　with
  the　ugly　old　thing。〃
  The　most　enthusiastic　member　of　the　congregation　could　scarcely
  call　the　old　church　beautiful；　and　to　Maimie's　eyes　it　was
  positively　hideous。　　No　steeple　or　tower　gave　any　hint　of　its
  sacred　character。　　Its　weather…beaten　clapboard　exterior；　spotted
  with　black　knots；　as　if　stricken　with　some　disfiguring　disease；　had
  nothing　but　its　row　of　uncurtained　windows　to　distinguish　it　from
  an　ordinary　barn。
  They　entered　by　the　door　at　the　end　of　the　church；　and　proceeded
  down　the　long　aisle　that　ran　the　full　length　of　the　building；　till
  they　came　to　a　cross　aisle　that　led　them　to　the　minister's　pew　at
  the　left　side　of　the　pulpit；　and　commanding　a　view　of　the　whole
  congregation。　　The　main　body　of　the　church　was　seated　with　long　box
  pews　with　hinged　doors。　　But　the　gallery　that　ran　round　three　sides
  was　fitted　with　simple　benches。　　Immediately　in　front　of　the　pulpit
  was　a　square　pew　which　was　set　apart　for　the　use　of　the　elders；　and
  close　up　to　the　pulpit；　and　indeed　as　part　of　this　structure；　was　a
  precentor's　desk。　　The　pulpit　was；　to　Maimie's　eyes；　a　wonder。　　It
  was　an　octagonal　box　placed　high　on　one　side　of　the　church　on　a
  level　with　the　gallery；　and　reached　by　a　spiral　staircase。　　Above
  it　hung　the　highly　ornate　and　altogether　extraordinary　sounding…
  board　and　canopy。　　There　was　no　sign　of　paint　anywhere；　but　the
  yellow　pine；　of　which　seats；　gallery；　and　pulpit　were　all　made；　had
  deepened　with　age　into　a　rich　brown；　not　unpleasant　to　the　eye。
  The　church　was　full；　for　the　Indian　Lands　people　believed　in　going
  to　church；　and　there　was　not　a　house　for　many　miles　around　but　was
  represented　in　the　church　that　day。　　There　they　sat；　row　upon　row
  of　men；　brawny　and　brown　with　wind　and　sun；　a　notable　company；
  worthy　of　their　ancestry　and　worthy　of　their　heritage。　　Beside　them
  sat　their　wives；　brown；　too；　and　weather…beaten；　but　strong；　deep…
  bosomed；　and　with　faces　of　calm　content；　worthy　to　be　mothers　of
  their　husbands'　sons。　　The　girls　and　younger　children　sat　with
  their　parents；　modest；　shy；　and　reverent；　but　the　young　men；　for
  the　most　part；　filled　the　back　seats　under　the　gallery。　　And　a
  hardy　lot　they　were；　as　brown　and　brawny　as　their　fathers；　but
  tingling　with　life　to　their　finger…tips；　ready　for　anything；　and
  impossible　of　control　except　by　one　whom　they　feared　as　well　as
  reverenced。　　And　such　a　man　was　Alexander　Murray；　for　they　knew
  well　that；　lithe　and　brawny　as　they　were；　there　was　not　a　man　of
  them　but　he　could　fling　out　of　the　door　and　over　the　fence　if　he　so
  wished；　and　they　knew；　too；　that　he　would　be　prompt　to　do　it　if
  occasion　arose。　　Hence　they　waited　for　the　word　of　God　with　all　due
  reverence　and　fear。
  In　the　square　pew　in　front　of　the　pulpit　sat　the　elders；　hoary；
  massive；　and　venerable。　　The　Indian　Lands　Session　were　worth
  seeing。　　Great　men　they　were；　every　one　of　them；　excepting；
  perhaps；　Kenneth　Campbell；　〃Kenny　Crubach；〃　as　he　was　called；　from
  his　halting　step。　　Kenny　was　neither　hoary　nor　massive　nor
  venerable。　　He　was　a　short；　grizzled　man　with　snapping　black　eyes
  and　a　tongue　for　clever；　biting　speech；　and　while　he　bore　a
  stainless　character；　no　one　thought　of　him　as　an　eminently　godly
  man。　　In　public　prayer　he　never　attained　any　great　length；　nor　did
  he　employ　that　tone　of　unction　deemed　suitable　in　this　sacred
  exercise。　　He　seldom　〃spoke　to　the　question；〃　but　when　he　did
  people　leaned　forward　to　listen；　and　more　especially　the　rows　of
  the　careless　and　ungodly　under　the　gallery。　　Kenny　had　not　the　look
  of　an　elder；　and　indeed；　many　wondered　how　he　had　ever　come　to　be
  chosen　for　the　office。　　But　the　others　all　had　the　look　of　elders；
  and　carried　with　them　the　full　respect　and　affection　of　the
  congregation。　　Even　the　young　men　under　the　gallery　regarded　them
  with　reverence　for　their　godly　character；　but　for　other　things　as
  well；　for　these　old　men　had　been　famous　in　their　day；　and　tales
  were　still　told　about　the　firesides　of　the　people　of　their　prowess
  in　the　woods　and　on　the　river。
  There　was；　for　instance；　Finlay　McEwen；　or　McKeowen；　as　they　all
  pronounced　it　in　that　country；　who；　for　a　wager；　had　carried　a
  four…hundred…pound　barrel　upon　each　hip　across　the　long　bridge　over
  the　Scotch　River。　　And　next　him　sat　Donald　Ross；　whose　very　face；
  with　its　halo　of　white　hair；　bore　benediction　with　it　wherever　he
  went。　　What　a　man　he　must　have　been　in　his　day！　　Six　feet　four
  inches　he　stood　in　his　stocking　soles；　and　with　〃a　back　like　a　barn
  door；〃　as　his　son　Danny；　or　〃Curly；〃　now　in　the　shanty　with
  Macdonald　Bhain；　used　to　say；　in　affectionate　pride。　　Then　there
  was　Farquhar　McNaughton；　big；　kindly；　and　good…natured；　a　mighty
  man　with　the　ax　in　his　time。　　〃Kirsty's　Farquhar〃　they　called　him；
  for　obvious　reasons。　　And　a　good　thing　for　Farquhar　it　was　that　he
  had　had　Kirsty　at　his　side　during　these　years　to　make　his　bargains
  for　him　and　to　keep　him　and　all　others　to　them；　else　he　would　never
  have　become　the　substantial　man　he　was。
  Next　to　Farquhar　was　Peter　McRae；　the　chief　of　a　large　clan　of
  respectable；　and　none　too　respectable；　families；　whom　all　alike
  held　in　fear；　for　Peter　ruled　with　a　rod　of　iron；　and　his　word　ran
  as　law　throughout　the　clan。　　Then　there　was　Ian　More　Macgregor；　or
  〃Big　John　Macgregor；〃　as　the　younger　generation　called　him；　almost
  as　big　as　Donald　Ross　and　quite　as　kindly；　but　with　a　darker；
  sadder　face。　　Something　from　his　wilder　youth　had　cast　its　shadow
  over　his　life。　　No　one　but　his　minister　and　two　others　knew　that
  story；　but　the　old　man　knew　it　himself；　and　that　was　enough。　　One
  of　those　who　shared　his　secret　was　his　neighbor　and　crony；　Donald
  Ross；　and　it　was　worth　a　journey　of　some　length　to　see　these　two
  great　old　men；　one　with　the　sad　and　the　other　with　the　sunny　face；
  stride　off　together；　staff　in　hand；　at　the　close　of　the　Gaelic
  service；　to　Donald's　home；　where　the　afternoon　would　be　spent　in
  discourse　fitting　the　Lord's　day　and　in　prayer。
  The　only　other　elder　was　Roderick　McCuiag；　who　sat；　not　in　the
  elders'　pew；　but　in　the　precentor's　box；　for　he　was　the　Leader　of
  Psalmody。　　〃Straight　Rory；〃　as　he　was　called　by　the　irreverent；　was
  tall；　spare；　and　straight　as　a　ramrod。　　He　was　devoted　to　his
  office；　jealous　of　its　dignity；　and　strenuous　in　his　opposition　to
  all　innovations　in　connection　with　the　Service　of　Praise。　　He　was
  especially　opposed　to　the　introduction　of　those　〃new…fangled
  ranting〃　tunes　which　were　being　taught　the　young　people　by　John
  〃Alec〃　Fraser　in　the　weekly　singing…school　in　the　Nineteenth；　and
  which　were　sung　at　Mrs。　Murray's　Sabbath　evening　Bible　class　in　the
  Little　Church。　　Straight　Rory　had　been　educated　for　a　teacher　in
  Scotland；　and　was　something　of　a　scholar。　　He　loved　school
  examinations；　where　he　was　the　terror　of　pupils　and　teachers　alike。
  His　acute　mind　reveled　in　the　metaphysics　of　theolog