CHAPTER SEVEN.

ON THE MARCH--WINNEMAK UNABLE TO GIVE ME NEWS OF MY FRIENDS--MY

ARGUMENTS IN FAVOUR OF PIOMINGO--ENCAMPED FOR THE NIGHT--WE REACH

WINNEMAK'S CAMP--BRAVES AND SQUAWS--WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS?--WINNEMAK AND

HIS IDOLS--A PARTY OF BRAVES ARRIVE, WITH PRISONERS--MAYSOTTA AND HER

DOG--A STRANGE MEETING--THE LIEUTENANT'S STORY--WE START IN QUEST OF

CLARICE AND RACHEL--A FRUITLESS SEARCH--I LOSE MY FRIEND IN THE FOREST--

TRYING TO REGAIN THE RIGHT PATH, I MEET WITH CLARICE AND MAYSOTTA--MY

SISTER'S STORY--I TELL HER OF THE BURNING OF THE FARM--WE SET OUT FOR

THE CAMP, AND MEET WITH THE LIEUTENANT--NIGHT COMING ON, WE ENCAMP IN

THE FOREST--RESUMING OUR JOURNEY IN THE MORNING, WE REACH THE CAMP IN

SAFETY.

As we proceeded on our journey, I walked alongside the chief,

endeavouring to gain from him all the information I could. I was

surprised that he had not fallen in with Uncle Jeff, and that he had

seen nothing of Lieutenant Broadstreet and Clarice. I supposed that he

or his people would certainly have met them on their way to his camp--

Winnemak could only account for it by supposing that they had made a

detour to avoid some party of the enemy.

"But might they not, then, have been surprised and overcome?" I asked,

with much agitation.

"Not if they faced them with a bold front, or kept a proper watch at

night," he answered. "Those Arrapahas are cowardly; they will only

attack their enemies when they feel secure in their numbers, or can take

them by surprise."

"They fought bravely enough when they assaulted Uncle Jeff's farm," I

observed. "I should not have called them cowards."

"They had white men with them--and only the bravest of their warriors

took part in the fight," he replied.

I could only trust that Winnemak was right in his conjecture, and that

we should find Clarice and her escort at the camp. With regard to Uncle

Jeff, I was still more anxious, and I began to fear that,

notwithstanding his clever trick, he might not have escaped the bullets

and arrows of his pursuers; or his horse might have fallen, and he have

been taken prisoner. Altogether, my state of mind may be better

imagined than described; still, always hopeful, I continued to hope, in

spite of the appearance of things, that they would all turn up right at

last.

I spoke to the chief on another subject. I was not altogether satisfied

as to the way in which he intended to treat his prisoner, and he did not

seem at all disposed to enlighten me. I told him how white men always

fed their prisoners, and took good care of the wounded; and when war was

over, set them free to return to their homes.

"The ways of the Palefaces are not those of the Redskins," he answered

evasively. "Piomingo must be treated according to our customs; and my

braves would complain were I to set him free to commit more mischief."

I pleaded for the poor wretch that he had not done us any injury as yet;

that though he had been watching the camp, we could not tell that he had

any sinister object in doing so; and that, as his life had been

preserved, it would be barbarous to take it afterwards.

The chief heard me very patiently, but he was evidently unmoved by all

my arguments.

I now and then went up and spoke to the poor prisoner, who, I suspected,

was still suffering great pain, although Indian fortitude forbade him to

give expression to his feelings. I urged his bearers, in the few words

I could speak of their language, and by signs, to carry him carefully,

for they were inclined to treat him as they would a deer or any other

animal they might have shot. I saw the prisoner's eyes turned towards

me, but he in no way expressed any gratitude for the service I desired

to render him.

Winnemak was all this time keeping a look-out on every side; while

several of his men were acting as scouts, so as to give us timely notice

of danger.

At night we encamped as before, keeping a strict watch; while the

prisoner was bound in a way which would have rendered it difficult for

him to escape even had he possessed strength enough to run off. Our

camp being pitched in a sheltered position, we lighted a fire, which

even at that time of the year was pleasant, if not absolutely necessary;

and there was but slight risk of its position betraying our presence to

any passing foe.

The next morning we proceeded as before; and I was thankful when at

length, just as evening was approaching, the chief told me that we were

not far from the camp. I looked out eagerly ahead for the first sight

of it, for I hoped to meet Clarice and Uncle Jeff there, and to have my

anxiety at last set at rest.

The sun was just tinging the southern side of the snowy mountains on our

left, ere it sank below them, when I caught sight of the wigwams of the

Kaskaskias, on the slopes of a pine-covered hill. The camp as we drew

near did not present a very attractive appearance. The wigwams were

such as are only used in summer--a few poles, covered with buffalo

hides, or deer skins, more to afford shelter from the heat of the sun,

or from a downfall of rain, than protection from the cold. A number of

squaws were seated about, some inside the tents nursing papooses, others

tending large pots of broth boiling over fires. A few braves were

standing about, and others looking after the horses of the tribe, which

they had apparently just driven in from pasture; while a pack of dogs,

the most ill-favoured of mongrels ever seen, were squatted about,

watching for the offal which might be thrown to them, or ready to rush

in and seize any of the meat which might for a moment be left unguarded.

The women continued at their various employments, but the braves, as we

approached, advanced to meet us. The chief halted and addressed them,

but I could not follow him. I judged, however, by the intonations of

his voice, that he was telling them of his defeat, and the loss of so

many of their people. Meantime, I was looking about eagerly for signs

of Clarice, Uncle Jeff, and Manley, but nowhere could I see any. Still,

I knew it would be contrary to Indian etiquette to interrupt the chief

by inquiring for them.

On hearing of the various disasters which had occurred, the men showed

but little emotion. The chief, I observed, now pointed to his prisoner,

by which I feared the worst for poor Piomingo.

As soon as I could venture to address the braves, I inquired for Clarice

and the officer; and great was my dismay to find that they had not

arrived at the camp, nor had Uncle Jeff appeared.

The chief now asked for his daughter.

Maysotta had gone out hunting with her favourite dog Keokuk. There was

no danger of any harm befalling her while she had so good an attendant,

as Keokuk knew when a foe was within a mile or so, and would give her

ample warning; as he would were deer, buffalo, bears, or wolves within

the same distance.

The chief, seeing my disappointment, endeavoured to console me by saying

that perhaps my friends had missed the camp altogether, and had gone on,

and that probably we should soon hear of them; a party of his braves

were still out on an expedition, and they perhaps had fallen in with

Clarice or Uncle Jeff.

No news was received during the night, but, in spite of my anxiety, I

was glad to lie down in a corner of the chiefs tent and obtain some

rest, of which I stood greatly in need. During our journey, when we

might at any moment have been attacked by an enemy, I had only slept at

intervals.

I had been for some hours, I fancy, fast asleep, when I was awakened by

a movement made by the chief, who had been lying near by me, wrapped in

his buffalo robe. By the light of the moon, which streamed in through

the unclosed entrance, I saw him get up and leave the tent.

Influenced by a motive for which I cannot now account, I rose and

followed him. My belief is that I was scarcely awake; indeed, I walked

along like a person in a dream. He at once left the camp, and took the

way down to the lower and open ground. I was at some distance behind

him, so he did not hear my footsteps.

After walking for a quarter of an hour or more, I found myself in the

midst of an Indian burial-ground, which I recognised by the number of

small platforms, raised on posts and thatched over, rising in all

directions. Besides the platforms, I observed several strange-looking

figures fixed to the top of tall poles, and composed, as far as I could

judge, of bits of coloured rags and skins, which fluttered in a weird

fashion in the night breeze.

The chief stopped before a couple of these fantastic-looking objects,

and, with folded arms, gazed up at them, uttering some words which I was

too far off to hear distinctly, though the sound of his voice reached my

ears. He was praying,--of that I could have no doubt,--and these

trumpery scarecrows were his idols. I could not have supposed that a

man of good sense, as he appeared to be, could be the victim of a

superstition so gross and contemptible.

He continued standing for some time, making various signs, and uttering

words as before.

Unwilling to be discovered, now that I was fully awake, I was on the

point of retreating, when the sound of my footfall reached his ears, and

turning round he saw me. I did not wish that he should fancy I was

afraid of encountering him, so I at once advanced, and told him frankly

how I came to follow him. I assured him, also, that I had had no

intention of acting as a spy on his movements. As he appeared to be in

no way displeased, I asked him, while we were walking back to the camp,

whether he had really been worshipping the figures I had seen.

"Why not?" he inquired in a serious tone. "The times are full of danger

and difficulty, and I wished to obtain the protection and support of the

guardian spirits of our people. If I did not ask them, how could I

expect them to grant me what I want? While I was staying at Roaring

Water, I heard your uncle pray to your gods; and I suppose that you

expected them to give you what you asked for."

I tried to explain to him that there is but one God, the Great Spirit of

whom his people knew, though they were sadly ignorant of his character;

and that we never prayed to inferior beings, as our God would not allow

us to do so. Much more I said, though at the time with little effect;

indeed, the chief was as deeply sunk in the grossest superstition as are

the Indian tribes among whom the gospel light has not yet shone.

On reaching his tent, he bade me lie down again, observing that he would

talk over the matter another day.

The next morning I was surprised to find that Maysotta had not returned.

Still, her father appeared to feel no anxiety about her.

The sun had been up a couple of hours or so when I heard shouts in the

camp, and the chief with all his braves hurried out. They went to

welcome the return of a party of their warriors, who marched in singing

and shouting,--the leading men having three or four scalps at the end of

their spears, while among them were dragged three or four unfortunate

Arrapahas, whom they had captured, and who were, according to the Indian

custom, to be put to death. Among them, to my surprise and horror, was

a young squaw, who, if not beautiful according to my taste, was

certainly interesting-looking. She bore herself with as much fortitude,

apparently, as the men, although she knew that her fate would be the

same as theirs.

The chief had said nothing to me about Piomingo, and I now felt

satisfied that it was the intention of his people to sacrifice him with

the rest of the prisoners. I resolved, however, to plead for him, as

well as for them, and make special endeavours to save the life of the

young squaw. According to the savage Indian custom, she would be

barbarously tortured before being put to death. It seems strange that

human beings can take a pleasure in thus treating their

fellow-creatures; it shows how debased, how diabolically cruel, men can

become when they have once gone away from God. At present, however, the

braves were too much occupied in recounting their deeds of valour to

think of their prisoners, who were left bound, and guarded with

lynx-eyed watchfulness by some of the old squaws.

I found that this was only one of the parties of braves, and that

another was expected shortly with more prisoners. As far as I could

understand, these prisoners were said to be white men; but I concluded

that they were some of the Mexican outlaws who had accompanied the

Arrapahas on their marauding expedition.

While looking out for them, I saw a solitary figure, rifle in hand,

approaching the camp, whom I recognised as Maysotta, accompanied by her

dog Keokuk. I hastened to meet her, and told her of my anxiety at the

non-appearance of Clarice.

"If they do not come, I will go in search of them," she said.

She had killed a deer, so she sent off some of her people, under the

guidance of Keokuk, to bring it in. Her dog would, she said, lead them

to the spot.

Shortly afterwards, the second band, who were expected, made their

appearance in the distance, and, as before, the warriors hurried out to

meet them.

I was still talking to Maysotta, when I saw her look towards the

approaching party, and an expression of astonishment take possession of

her countenance.

"What have our braves been doing?" she said. "They have made a prisoner

of our friend the young white chief."

As she spoke, I looked in the same direction, and I too was greatly

astonished, and also much alarmed, at seeing Lieutenant Broadstreet,

with his arms tied behind him, in the midst of the warriors--his two

troopers following, closely guarded.

"What can have happened?" I exclaimed. "What can have become of

Clarice and Rachel? My dear sister! some accident must have befallen

her."

"I will learn what has happened," said Maysotta.

I hurried to Winnemak, and explained that his people had made prisoners

of those who were on their way to visit his camp.

He thought I was mistaken; but I assured him that I was not, and that

his daughter would corroborate my statement. On hearing this he ordered

the prisoners to be brought forward, when, at once recognising the

lieutenant and the two troopers, he ordered them to be set at liberty.

Hurrying up to my friend, I eagerly inquired for Clarice and her

attendant.

His emotion would scarcely allow him to reply. He seemed dreadfully

cast down, as well as weak and faint from want of food.

"We had encamped two nights ago," he said, "in a secure spot, as I

supposed, and were in hopes the next day of reaching our destination,

when just at dusk I saw a band of Indians approaching. To prevent them

coming near, I ordered my men to mount and ride forward, while your

sister and Rachel remained, as I hoped, concealed from view. The

Indians retreated to some distance, and I was induced to follow. They

then halted and made signs of friendship, which tempted me to go still

nearer. Suddenly, however, as I was about to inquire who they were, and

where they were going, they set upon me and my men, without the

slightest warning, and before we could even draw our swords or pistols

we were dragged from our horses, and our arms bound behind us. At first

I thought that our captors must be Arrapahas; but looking again at their

costume, I was sure that they were Kaskaskias, belonging to a friendly

tribe. In vain I expostulated, and tried to explain who we were; but

they did not understand me, mistaking us, I believe, for some of the

Mexicans who had accompanied the Arrapahas; at all events, we were

dragged ignominiously along, neither food nor water being given us."

I at once told the chief what the lieutenant had said. He was very

indignant with his people, but explained that the whole had happened by

mistake.

Our first thought, of course, was to discover Clarice and Rachel. The

lieutenant himself was eager to start immediately, but he was evidently

too weak for the undertaking, and was at once led to the chief's tent,

where Maysotta hurried to attend on him, while some of the older squaws

took care of his two troopers.

Maysotta immediately brought him food and water. "Eat," she said; "the

`Fair Lily' is my friend as well as yours; I am as anxious as you are to

find her. As soon as you are rested we will set out. Were you to go

now, you would faint by the way."

I was standing outside the entrance to the tent while Maysotta was

speaking to the lieutenant, and it struck me, from her looks and tone of

voice, that she felt a warm interest in the young lieutenant, which

might, I feared, prove inconvenient, if it had not worse consequences.

I was watching the Indians, who, having lost their white prisoners, had

now brought forward their Redskin captives, and were dancing a horrible

war-dance round them. Their appearance on ordinary occasions was

somewhat savage, but they looked ten times more savage now, as they

shrieked, and leaped, and tossed their arms and legs about, and went

round and round, flourishing their tomahawks, and jeering at the

unfortunate people in their midst. The latter, knowing that they would

not yet be sacrificed, sat in perfect silence, without exhibiting any

emotion, and bearing patiently the insults heaped upon them.

I had not abandoned my idea of pleading for the unhappy prisoners, but

at this time I was thinking more of Clarice, and the means of recovering

her; still, should I go away, I feared that the prisoners might be put

to death during my absence. Having seen that the horses of my white

friends were turned out on a pasture close at hand, where they could get

abundance of grass, I went to the chief and asked him whether he wished

to be on friendly terms with the Palefaces?

He said that he certainly did--it was his greatest ambition.

"Then," I replied, "you must live as they do, and imitate their customs.

I have told you before, that we do not torture or otherwise injure our

prisoners, and that it is our duty to forgive our enemies, and to do

them good. Now I want you to promise me that no one shall suffer while

I am away."

The chief could not make up his mind to yield, but I urged him again and

again, and at last I hoped, from what he said, that he would do as I

wished.

The lieutenant was now sufficiently recovered to mount his horse, and,

followed by his two troopers, he and I set off in search of Clarice.

None of the Indians, however, offered to accompany us, nor did Maysotta,

as I thought she would have done; but I found that she had left the camp

with her dog and rifle before we started. It was her custom, I

discovered, to act in a very independent manner on all occasions, her

father never interfering with her.

We pushed forward at as rapid a rate as we could make our horses move;

but the ground was at first too rough to allow us to proceed as fast as

we wished. When we got to the plain we gave our steeds the rein.

Judging from the report of Winnemak's people who last came in, we had

not much risk of encountering any of our foes; indeed, our whole

thoughts were entirely occupied by Clarice and Rachel. Had they waited

quietly the return of their escort; or had any hostile Indians

discovered them, and carried them off as captives? The idea of such an

occurrence as that was too horrible to be contemplated. Perhaps they

might have caught and mounted their horses, and set off to try and find

their way to the camp. In that case we might possibly meet them, and as

we rode along we kept a strict look-out on every side.

"Can they possibly have passed us?" I inquired of my companions.

"I do not see how that can be, unless they should have gone very much

out of their way; and I remember having pointed out to your sister the

position of the Indian camp, so that she would know how to direct her

course," answered Manley. "The peculiar form of the mountains above it

would be sufficient to guide her."

After all, we felt that there was but little use in talking about the

matter, or in surmising what might have happened--though, of course, we

did talk on without ceasing.

We at last approached the spot where Manley had left Clarice and her

companion. Should we not find them there, we must endeavour to follow

their trail; and when I thought of the possibility of having to do this,

I regretted not having endeavoured to induce an Indian to accompany us.

"There is the place," said Manley, at length; "but I see no smoke, and

had they remained they would certainly have kept up a fire."

We rode forward eagerly; but our fears were realised. The ashes of the

fire at the camp were there, but the fire itself had long been

extinguished.

Clarice and Rachel must have left the spot some time before!

We searched about in every direction, but could find no traces of their

having been there lately, and our eyes were not sufficiently sharp to

distinguish the signs which would have enabled an Indian to say in what

direction they had gone. We next looked out for their horses, but they

were nowhere within sight.

Some time was thus spent, and the day was drawing to a close. Should we

not find them before nightfall, we must wait until the next morning. To

have to do this was trying in the extreme, but we had to submit, as it

was so dark that we could with difficulty see our way as we returned to

the deserted camp. My poor friend Manley was dreadfully out of spirits,

but I assured him that he had no reason to blame himself. He had acted

for the best, and no man could do more.

The next morning we resumed our search; but without success. We were

both of us in despair.

"They must have taken their horses and ridden off towards the mountains;

it is useless searching for them here any longer," I said.

Manley agreed with me, and, believing that they must have gone on to the

camp by a different route from the one we had taken, he was eager to

return.

He and his men had pushed ahead through the forest while I stopped to

tighten the girths of my saddle; and when I rode forward, expecting

immediately to overtake them, I found that I had followed a different

direction from that which they had taken.

It is no easy matter, in a thick forest, to regain the right path, or to

get up with those who have once been lost sight of. I found it to be so

in the present instance. I was sure that I could not be going very far

wrong, and expected as soon as I reached the edge of the forest to see

my friends, although they might have got some little way ahead on the

open ground.

As I was riding on, I fancied that I heard the bark of a dog. I

listened, and again heard the same sound. I was now certain that the

animal was not far off. To whom could it belong? The dog was not

likely to be wandering by itself in the forest. I rode in the direction

from whence the sound proceeded, and in a short time reached a somewhat

more open part of the forest. Great was my surprise and joy to see my

dear little sister Clarice, leaning on the arm of Maysotta, who carried

her rifle in her hand, while Keokuk ran beside her.

Leaping from my horse, I sprang towards Clarice, who threw her arms

round my neck, exclaiming, "O Ralph, I am so thankful to see you! I

have been in a dreadful state of alarm and anxiety, thinking that

Manley--I mean Lieutenant Broadstreet--and his men had been killed.

Maysotta has somewhat relieved my mind. But where is he? Has he been

unable to come and look for me?"

The assurance I gave that Manley was well, and not far off, soon

restored Clarice to her usual composure.

Having no longer any fears about Manley's safety, she was able to answer

the questions I put to her. After telling me how the lieutenant and his

men had ridden off to meet the Indians, she continued:--

"We were sitting before the fire awaiting their return, when what was

our dismay to see two huge wolves approaching the camp, followed by a

number of cubs! Our first impulse was to fly; and while the wolves

stopped to eat up our provisions, we were able to escape to a distance.

We took refuge in the hollow of a tree, which afforded us sufficient

shelter, and the aperture being some way up, we felt sure the wolves

could not make their way in. But Maysotta has been telling me that

something dreadful has happened, though I cannot make out what she

means."

"I will tell you all about that by-and-by," I answered; "but I am eager

to know how Maysotta managed to find you."

"As soon as we thought that the wolves had gone from our camp, Rachel

went to see if anything had been left; but the savage creatures had

carried off everything, and at the same time frightened away our horses

and mules, and they were nowhere to be seen. We remained in the tree

for some time, and I do not think anybody would have found us. Then

Rachel went away to try and get some berries and roots. She had not

been long absent when I heard a dog barking, and looking out through a

small hole in the hollow trunk, I saw Maysotta approaching. I therefore

stepped out of my place of concealment; and Maysotta, who was delighted

to find me, said that she had come out expressly to search for us, and

would take us immediately to the camp. Of course, I could not go

without Rachel, and we are now on our way to look for her, as she cannot

be far off."

"Keokuk will find her," said Maysotta, patting her dog on the head, and

saying a few words to him.

Away he started, and in a short time we heard him barking loudly.

Maysotta, leaving Clarice with me, hurried on, and in a few minutes we

saw her approach, guiding Rachel towards us.

Rachel's joy on seeing me was so demonstrative, that I scarcely liked to

tell her or my sister of the destruction of the farm. However, it had

to be done, and I related all that had taken place. As I proceeded,

Rachel gave full vent to her grief, whilst my sister betrayed the sorrow

she felt by her tearful and troubled countenance. Rachel wrung her

hands and burst into tears, which her own previous perilous position had

not been able to draw from her.

"De farm burned!" she exclaimed; "oh dear! oh dear! And what become of

Jenny, Nancy, Polly, and all de oder cows, and de pigs and de poultry?

And Uncle Jeff, what he do; and Bartle and Gideon?"

I consoled her somewhat by saying that I thought it possible all three

had escaped, and that even the cows and pigs might have got away, either

into the woods or among the hills.

On hearing this she became somewhat more tranquil, and was able to chat

away in her usual style.

We now prepared to set out for the camp. I thought it probable, on

account of the delay, that we might not overtake Manley, although I

specially wished to do so, in order to put an end to his anxiety. It

was, of course, important to recover the horses and baggage-mules, and

Maysotta proposed that she should conduct us to the edge of the forest,

where we could remain while she, with Keokuk, searched for the

animals,--expressing, at the same time, her confidence of success.

Having placed Clarice on my horse, I led the animal by the rein till we

reached the spot proposed. We looked out to the westward for Manley and

his troopers, and were greatly disappointed at not seeing them. So, I

suspect, was Clarice. We had not, however, waited long until I caught

sight of three horsemen. They came rapidly on, and to my great

satisfaction I distinguished our friends. On observing us they put

spurs to their horses, and the lieutenant galloped forward.

Clarice met him with a sweet smile.

"I felt very sure that you had not willingly deserted us," she answered,

when, in an agitated voice, Manley told her of the anguish of his mind

at finding himself a prisoner in the hands of the Indians, leaving her

unprotected in the forest.

As we could not tell how long Maysotta might be absent, we lighted a

fire and cooked some provisions, of which both Clarice and Rachel stood

greatly in need. The Indian damsel, however, had been so confident

about finding the horses, that I was not surprised to see Keokuk driving

them towards us, a short time before sunset.

Maysotta expressed her satisfaction at finding the young white chief, as

she called Manley, and his men with us. "As it is now too late to set

off to-night," she said, "we must remain here. There are water and

grass near at hand; and if your men will do as I direct them, we will

quickly put up a wigwam for Clarice, the black woman, and me."

Manley and I offered to act under her directions; but, except that we

cut some rough sticks, and transported some bark, she really gave us

very little to do,--performing nearly the whole of the architectural

operations with her own hands.

I was thankful that Clarice would thus have shelter, and be able to

obtain the rest which she so much required.

Maysotta had shot several small animals, and these, with the provisions

we had brought, afforded us an abundant supper.

The night was passed without any interruption, and early the next

morning we set off for Winnemak's camp. I offered to take Maysotta on

my horse, but she declined, saying that she would proceed on foot, as

she hoped to shoot some deer by the way.

We rode as fast as we could; indeed, I was most anxious to get back,

both on account of the unhappy captives, and because I hoped to hear

news of Uncle Jeff.

As we got into the neighbourhood of the camp, we caught sight, on the

summit of a slight elevation, of a single horseman, who sat his steed

without moving, apparently unable to make out who we were, as, lifting

his hand to his brow, he peered at us from under it. We had got within

speaking distance before I recognised our host Winnemak. His whole

appearance and bearing were totally changed. With a magnificent crown

of feathers on his head, a jacket of rich fur handsomely trimmed,

glittering bracelets and earrings, a spear in his hand and a shield at

his back, as he firmly sat his strongly-built mustang, he looked every

inch a warrior chief.

"I did not know you at first, but I do now," he said, smiling; "and the

White Lily is truly welcome to my tents."

Clarice thanked him, and we rode to the camp together. He told us that

he purposed visiting the chiefs of all the neighbouring tribes and

forming a confederation, in order to resist effectually any future

invasion of our common enemies the Arrapahas. "For such a purpose a

chief must be habited as becomes a chief," he added, to account to us

for the change in his costume.

I scarcely listened to him, however, as I was eagerly waiting to inquire

if Uncle Jeff had arrived at the camp; and I was much disappointed to

find that nothing had been seen or heard of him.

In the Rocky Mountains · 第 15 / 22 题