noon
Catharine flies with the speed of a young fawn to climb the cliff-like shoulder of that steep bank ; and now ; out of breath , she stands at the threshold of her log-house . How neat and nice it looks compared with the Indians ' tents ! The little field of corn is green and flourishing . There is Hector 's axe in a newly-cut log : it is high noon ; the boys ought to have been there taking their mid-day meal , but the door is shut . Catharine lifts the wooden latch , and steps in . The embers are nearly burned out to a handful of gray ashes . Old Wolfe is not there -- all is silent ; and Catharine sits down to still the beating of her heart , and await the coming of her slower companions , and gladdens her mind with the hope that her brother and Louis will soon be home .