It was the tenth day, since he was hurt, and the first that he had

showed consciousness--and tremblingly the young girl watched his

slumbers, fearing lest, when he awoke, the delirium would return. If it

did not, he was certainly improving, and he would live. If it did--she

shuddered to think of the probable consequences. Long and quietly he

slept, and when he opened his eyes, he turned them quietly to the

watcher, and observed:

"I think, Jane, I did dream of the wolf, for I have been dreaming of

him again, and this time I thought I killed him; and as I know I have

killed no wolf, I conclude the whole is a dream."

"Now, you talk rational, and are better, I am sure."

"I think I am, for I am hungry," said Sidney, pleasantly.

Sending Howe to watch by the couch, Jane began to consider what could

be procured among their limited resources that would be nourishing, and

yet harmless. Cooking utensils they had none. Their whole stock of

vessels consisted of the shells of wild gourds that grew abundantly in

the forest. Necessity often compels a resort to recipes in cooking not

laid down in all the editions of gastronomy. It did in this case, and

grateful was Jane that she had the shell of the gourd to prepare a meal

in for Sidney. Taking some smooth white stones from the bed of the

stream, she placed them in the fire, and then put the wings of a

partridge into a gourd half-full of water, and as soon as the stones in

the fire were at a red heat, one was taken up by running under it a

forked stick; the dust that adhered to it was blown away, when it was

dropped into the gourd, and in a short time the water was boiling. As

soon as it ceased, another stone was put in, and in a little while a

broth not unsavory, though so rudely cooked, was ready and eaten by him

with relish.

At sunset the chief returned from the forest, all traces of the recent

farce were gone from his face, on which rested the old expression of

pride and _hauteur_. He asked no questions, expressed no concern; after

eating a hearty supper, he threw himself on the ground by the

camp-fire, and was soon asleep.

From the first night that Sidney had been attacked by the wolf, up to

this time, not a night or a day had elapsed that some kind of wild

beast had not been seen prowling about them; though they kept up large

camp-fires, they were in fear of a whole pack making their descent upon

them, when they must all be devoured, in defending Sidney, or leave him

to fall a defenceless victim. They found, to their dismay, that they

were in a portion of the forest overrun by beasts, which no doubt,

looked upon them as trespassing on their rights; the dislike of which

proceedings they evinced, by threatening in plain enough language to be

understood by our wanderers, to eat them for their audacity. After

enduring these hints a week longer, during which time the beasts had

become so venturesome as to come in uncomfortable proximity to them,

they began to think the most prudent course would be to vacate the

neighbourhood as soon as Sidney could be removed with safety, which

they had hopes of being soon, as he was rapidly gaining strength. The

broken bones were in a fair way to join, and the wounds to heal.

The nights were becoming cool, and as the time flew by, they became

anxious to remove from their dangerous position, as well as to be on

their journey in order to find their way out of the forest before the

winter set in. Without tools to work with, or weapons to defend

themselves, or proper clothing, they quailed at the thought of being

caught by the frost and snow in the mountains. But Sidney did not

recover his strength very fast, and they put off their departure day

after day on his account, after they had first set the time to start,

until two weeks had now elapsed when they crossed the small stream and

began to ascend the mountain. It was slow work, and at night they

encamped on the summit, where no water could be had, instead of

descending it, as they in the morning had calculated. That night Sidney

was unable to sleep, and moaned until daylight. After breakfasting they

began to descend; he insisted he was quite able to go, but the rest saw

it was too great an exertion for him. To remain on the mountain they

could not; to return to the place they had left was impossible. There

was no other alternative but to go on. The chief on one side and the

trapper on the other, he was half carried most of the distance; a

little after the middle of the day they reached the foot of the

mountains, and found themselves in a beautiful valley, along which ran

a clear stream about a quarter of a mile from the base of the mountain.

Their first thought was to build a couch for Sidney, who had lain down

on the ground with his head on a pile of leaves for a pillow. They

could not shut their eyes to the reality that he was really quite ill

again. Selecting a spot favorable for building a couch, they had one

soon completed, on which he was laid, and a temporary cover of hemlock

boughs and bark was thrown over it. They then commenced preparations

for supper. That night they were unmolested by wild beasts, which

augured well for their selection of a good ground to encamp on.

The next morning Sidney was much worse, and a cold, drizzling rain

having set in during the night, drove them all under the shelter

through the day, and even sent the goat and her kid, who had become

very tame, bleating to their side. As the day advanced the storm became

more furious, so much so that the water penetrated the roof and began

to fall upon Sidney's couch.

"This will never answer," said the trapper. "We must have a more regular

layer of bark over the cabin. I saw plenty of it but a little distance

where some large trees have fallen." Starting out with the chief, they

were peeling off the bark with the tomahawk by the aid of a lever, when

they discovered further down the stream a herd of deer feeding. Seizing

his bow and arrows which the chief had taken with him, he stole

cautiously towards them, and before they had taken the alarm a noble

buck and a doe had each an arrow shot through the heart. They were

conveyed to the cabin, and the successful hunters returned to cutting

their bark. After having rendered the cabin impervious to water they

dressed their game, stretching the skins to dry; "for," said the chief,

"snow will come and much skin be wanted." The venison was then cut in

slices and hung up to dry, so that it would be on hand if the game

should become scarce around them.

Towards night the chief with his tomahawk in his belt and his bow in

his hand went out to explore the country around in order to determine

what course was best to pursue. Taking a south-east direction, the face

of the country was level and very fertile, producing wild fruits and

nuts in abundance, which were now ripe, and with which the trees were

loaded.

"We shall not starve, at least," said the chief to himself, "if we

cannot go any farther, which I fear we shall not this fall. It is plain

the young brave cannot travel, and if he could, we are perhaps farther

from home now than ever. The Great Spirit only knows which way is the

right one to travel in order to find ourselves." He was surprised as he

went on to find the trees of the forest of less primitive growth,

especially those peculiar to the soil; and still greater surprised to

find them interspersed with trees now laden with ripe fruits of a

species he had never seen before; and more surprising still, these

trees were much larger than the wild ones, appearing of not more than a

hundred years growth. As he went further on the scenery became

perfectly enchanting. It had the appearance of having been a garden

deserted and run to waste after many years of high cultivation, rather

than a part of the wilds in a new world. Satisfied with discovering a

spot more congenial for building a hut that would withstand the winter

storms which were approaching, and around which he saw no signs of wild

beasts, he returned to the cabin and reported what he had seen.

"We are lost," said the chief, "past all doubt. The forest here is as

new to me as if I had never seen a tree before, and our safest way is

to prepare for winter."

"Prepare for winter!" said Edward, gloomily, "what have we to prepare?

No warm garments to make, for we have neither cloth, nor anything to

make them with if we had."

"There is much that can be done," said the trapper, "if we are obliged

to winter here, which I fear we shall be, as it will soon be here, and

Sidney is confined to his couch again. I will go in the morning and see

the place you speak so highly off and if we then agree upon it, we had

better endeavor to erect something that will defend us from our enemies

as well as cold and rain."

Chapter Eleventh.

The storm subsides. Search for winter quarters. Strange Discoveries.

Works of the Lost People. Their search among the Ruins. Walls, roads,

and buildings found. Their state of Preservation. The Wanderers decide

upon selecting a place to spend the winter in. They prepare to locate

themselves. Hunting deer and other Game. They find abundance of fruit.

A salt spring. Their joy at their discoveries.

The next morning the storm had passed over, and the sun arose bright

and clear upon our wanderers, who felt relieved as they found Sidney

much improved, though yet quite ill, but in a fair way to be able, in a

few days, to be on his feet again. Making everything as secure as

possible for those they left behind, the chief and Howe set out to

visit the spot where the chief earnestly desired their cabin should be

located. When arrived at the spot, Howe was not surprised at the

enthusiasm of the chief; and was astonished at the loveliness, as well

as the strangeness of the whole landscape that lay before him.

Penetrating the alluring wood before them half a mile further, the

scene still retaining its strange beauty, they came to a stream with an

artificial embankment, built of stone, cemented, five feet high from

the river's bed, and running up and down the stream as far as they

could see in the distance.

"The work of the lost people!" said the chief, endeavouring to displace

some stones from their artificial bed, but which resisted all his

efforts.

"This does look as though civilized people had lived here," said the

trapper. "This wall has been built to confine the water to its channel,

in times of heavy rains, so that it shall not inundate the plain.

Probably, these strange fruit trees are the seed of some brought here

from other regions by those builders which have planted themselves,

flourished, grown, and outlived all the changes that time has wrought."

"My forefathers have a tradition that it was a strong people that built

these things, more cunning and powerful than the white man, until the

Great Spirit became angry with them, and then they dried up like the

grass on the prairie when there is no rain; for, who is there that dare

brave him without being consumed with his anger?"

"We will go down to that copse yonder," said the trapper. "If I am not

mistaken, there is more than trees there."

"An herd of deer, perhaps," said the chief, preparing his bow for

action.

"I think not, unless deer are grey, and of inordinate proportions. From

here, it looks like piles of stone. Perhaps more of the work of those

who curbed these waters," said Howe.

As they drew near, large blocks of stone, squared and smoothly hewn,

lay in their path, and covered the ground around them. Crossing over

these, they came to a range of grey stone, that had the appearance of

once having been a high building, but which was now thrown down, and

tumbled into a shapeless mass. To the right of these stones they saw a

small square enclosure, strongly built of grey hewn stone, and the

joints fitted with a precision that would do credit to a stone-cutter

in our day. Every layer was strongly cemented with a composition that

seemed to have amalgamated with the stone, for on striking it with the

tomahawk, it did not even chip off, but gave back a ringing sound, like

the hardest granite. One thing they noticed was very singular, both in

the wall of this enclosure and in that by the river. The cement in

which it was laid was much darker than the stone, being almost black,

while the fallen building which they first came to was laid in a white

cement, quite like, in appearance, our own.

Going around this enclosure they were astonished to find that they were

in a city in ruins. Before them lay whole squares of shapeless masses,

overgrown with trees and shrubs, but the perfect regularity of the form

and finish of the blocks of stone, of which they had been composed,

with the mortar in which they had been laid still clinging to them,

were sufficient to convince them that they had once been buildings of

more than ordinary proportions and finish.

They attempted to force their way over this irregular pile of rubbish;

but found it a dangerous undertaking, as the blocks on which they

placed their feet yielded to their weight, and slipping from their

beds, threw them on the sharp edges of the stones--a proceeding they

did not at all relish. After receiving three or four such falls apiece,

and preferring the longer route as the safest, they started to go

around it, in order to investigate the forest beyond as they caught a

glimpse of some buildings still standing, through the leaves, that hid

the main structure from sight.

Taking their way around the western side of the obstruction, they came

to a long wide avenue, on which nothing but moss and small dwarf shrubs

grew, and which was perfectly smooth and level.

"This is singular," said the trapper. "I wonder why it is not overgrown

like the rest?"

"Perhaps it is a road," said the chief. "Sometimes they covered their

highways with stones, and laid them so close together, that a tree

could not take root in them."

"Did you ever meet with one?" asked the trapper.

"No: but tradition speaks of them, as once having been quite common. We

can soon see whether this is one by scraping away the leaves and dirt

that have accumulated over it." So saying, he commenced digging away

the accumulated earth, which was no easy task, as the rain the night

before had saturated the surface, making it adhere tenaciously to

whatever it came in contact with. Scraping away about four inches in

depth of forest mould, they came to a layer of stone blocks, the only

one which they laid bare being twelve feet long, and eight wide, the

thickness of which they could not ascertain, as it was so closely

fitted to the adjoining one, that the blade of a knife could not be

inserted between them.

Following this avenue, it led them around a graceful curve for half a

mile, and there terminated at a flight of stone steps, which ascending,

they found themselves on a high elevation of earth, that contained as

near as they could calculate, about five acres of ground, in the centre

of which, on another elevation of about half an acre, which was also

mounted by stone steps, stood a large imposing structure, still

magnificent in its ruins. This building they found likewise laid with

the dark cement, as indeed all the buildings were which they found

standing. The ingenuity of man had cheated time of its prey.

Entering this pile, they were struck with awe at the evident symmetry

and beauty that had once reigned within, for though time had

accumulated mould and moss over its walls, and covered its floors to a

depth of several inches with earth made up of dust and leaves that had

penetrated its open doors and windows; yet the walls themselves were

there, heavy blocks of granite in an iron-like cement that bound them

in place, perchance for a thousand years that have gone, and bid fair

to withstand the ravages of time for ages to come.

"Here," said the chief, "is a big house already built, which we can

winter in. It will save us the trouble of building, and be more secure

than anything we could make."

"Well," said the trapper, "I guess, by the trouble they took to put it

up here, that it was a palace or a temple. In either case, they had it

built a little tasty, and we will acknowledge the merit due them by

preferring it to any other."

"There is the forest full of fruits and nuts," said the chief, waving

his hand towards it, "and if we winter here, we must gather them in

before the rains come. The leaves are thickening on the ground, and

when another moon is spent, the rains will fall and the winds come down

from the north."

"You are right, chief. It is our place to make due preparation against

hunger and cold, for all the year roots, berries, and game cannot be

then as easily obtained as now. The sun is at the meridian, and they

will be alarmed at the cabin, if we do not return soon. But, we will be

here in the morning again, and clear out some of this rubbish, so that

we can take up our abode here as soon as Sidney can be moved, and then

we will devote our time in preparing for every contingency in our

power."

Following the avenue out until it was obstructed by rubbish, they

turned in the direction they knew their cabin lay. After proceeding

twenty rods through the lovely grove, with fruit trees blending with

the growth of the forest, they came to a small stone structure not more

than twenty feet square, nor eight high, in perfect preservation. It

had no floor, but in the centre bubbled up a jet of transparent water,

while all around its edges, and even on the side of the wall, as well

as over head it was encrusted with a white substance as though spray

had congealed over it.

"What a new wonder!" cried the trapper, "really I don't think they will

ever cease, for this excels them all. I would like to know if that is

really water."

"Perhaps it is the burning water," said the chief, "dip your hand in

and taste it."

"Salt! a salt spring!" cried the delighted trapper, on placing a drop

of the water on his tongue. No wonder it caused a sudden excitement and

great joy; for it was months that they had been without it, and it was

a privation under which they had suffered greatly, as its loss made

many a dish unpalatable that otherwise would have had a fine relish.

"The Great Spirit has led us here, and will finally deliver us from our

wanderings," said the chief, who was equally as well pleased, but it

was not his nature to make any extravagant exhibition of passion.

"Well, chief, the Great Spirit has our thanks, for this last blessing.

It is a gift of great value in our isolated position," said the

trapper.

On arriving at the cabin, they found them all safe, but suffering from

great anxiety at their prolonged absence, which fled on their return in

safety, their arms laden with the fruits they had gathered, the quality

of which they desired to test. The children listened with wonder at

what they heard in regard to the discoveries, it sounded so like a

fairy tale, and when assured that it was all really there as described,

and that they should see it themselves within a few days, they seemed

to forget their forlorn condition in the pleasure it afforded them.

The crusted salt they had gathered, gave them more real pleasure at

their dinner that day than is often experienced in many a life time--a

pleasure, satisfaction and joy that they could never have enjoyed, had

they not been deprived of it so entirely as they had been.

Here we might moralize if we had the room, but moralizing is out of the

question. We have a history, a complication of incidents to relate that

caused certain effects to develope themselves, and it is our only aim

to cause others to moralize--to lead inquiring minds into certain

directions by revealing something of the heretofore unwritten past.

The next morning Howe and the chief returned to the temple, as they

called the building on the elevation, and scraping the accumulated mass

of rubbish from the floor swept it with a broom made by tying the twigs

of hemlock on a long stick. A rude broom enough, but one often used as

far east as the new settlements in Pennsylvania to this day. When this

was done, they found the floor covered by a slippery black mould that

could not be swept off, and which they would have to remove by

scrubbing. Here was a new dilemma. They had no bucket in which to bring

water from the river, and their gourds would not hold over a quart

each, which would make the task of bringing it from such a distance

almost an endless job.

"We must do it," said the trapper. "This is a little too much filth for

civilized people. We can bring each four gourds full at a time which

will do something towards it. If we could turn the river into it we

could clear out the shell of its filth in a very short time."

"Perhaps," said the chief, "we can find something to bring water in if

we hunt over the big house."

"Not worth while now, chief: wait until the children are with us and

then we will go over it; at present our business is to make one room

habitable."

So saying they set out towards the river for a supply of water; but on

descending the first elevation at the side on which the building stood,

the chief, when partly down, placed his foot into a trough-like duct,

running parallel with the elevation which was filled with leaves so as

to obscure the sight of the water until it penetrated his moccasin.

"Water plenty!" cried the chief, drawing his foot from the unexpected

bath, and then commenced clearing the place from the leaves and earth

with which it was partially filled. They soon found it was an

artificial duct about one foot deep and two feet wide, built of the

same kind of grey stone as the rest of the ruins around, and still

supplied with water. They went on clearing it of rubbish in order to

see how far it extended; but after removing it a few rods they became

weary, and filling their gourds, hastened to finish their renovating

task.

That night they found Sidney up and cheerful, insisting he was quite

well enough to be removed. Howe would not venture it, but insisted on

waiting a few days more, during which he and the chief spent the time

making couches in the temple for their accommodation, and hunting, in

which sport he was very successful, having killed a number of deer,

turkeys, and mountain sheep. In searching for game they rarely

attempted to take any other than those whose skin would be valuable to

them as well as the meat, owing to their anxiety to secure as many

skins as possible while game was plenty, as skins and furs were all

they had to rely on as covering for their beds and for clothing.

Chapter Twelfth.

Astonishment of the Children. The Antiquity of the Ruins. Preparations

for making the temple their quarters. Building a chimney to their

house. The Chief's contentment. He asks to marry Jane. Sidney's anger.

Strange discoveries. Set out on a hunting expedition. Discovery of wild

horses. The chief captures a colt. He presents it to Jane. The winter

sets in. A series of storms prevails. A deer hunt. They discover an

Indian woman and her papoose. They take her into camp and provide for

her. Her inexpressible thanks for her deliverance.

The children were filled with wonder and astonishment at the

magnificence as well as the evident antiquity of the ruins, and spent

many days of actual pleasure wandering among them. They had read of

similar remains having been found in Europe; but these were rendered

vague in outline by distance, and meagre in description by their utter

impossibility to comprehend the actual appearance of things, the like

of which they had never seen. These were more tangible. They saw and

felt them; ascended and descended the symmetrical steps; ran their

fingers along the seams of wonderful cement that bound the pile in its

place like ribs of iron; drank water from a duct where a thousand years

ago others had drank, but of what nation, race or name they knew not.

Oblivion with her sombre mantle had closed over them, to remain, until

a mind capable of grasping the past shall arise, and with its giant

intellect give back the forgotten alphabet--the key that shall open to

us the rise, progress and fall of a nation, the relics of whose once

powerful but unknown people may be found over the whole continent.

They covered the floor of the room they had cleared with dried skins,

laying them with the hairy side up, thus making a comfortable carpet;

large blocks of stone were piled at intervals around the rooms for

seats, and these were also covered with soft skins, making very

passable but immovable seats. A table was built by setting four blocks

of stone up endwise in the centre of the room and laying one large,

smooth, thin slab on its top, around which were placed five movable

seats to be used while eating.

What annoyed them greatly was, there was no way of warming the room,

and as the weather now was becoming cold, they found it a great

discomfort, as the sun could not penetrate the thick stone walls to dry

the dampness that gathered on them. They were quite puzzled to know how

they were to be comfortable in that place without a fire, there being

no place in which to build one. There were two windows that extended

from the floor five feet, up which, probably, had been frames, that

were once filled with some perishable material, but of which not a

vestige now remained. These openings they always closed at night by

hanging skins before them, which were taken down in the morning to let

the light in. The door-way that led into the room, was entirely

destitute of any vestige of a door, although they found grooves cut in

the blocks of stone that ran along the side on which a door had been

hung. This door-way opened into a long hall, that ran through the house

from the front portal to the back--the doors that led into the four

rooms of which the temple was composed, opening on the inside. This

hall, which was truly a magnificent one, was thirty-five feet wide, and

fifty long, forty feet high, tapering towards the centre overhead, in a

lofty dome.

"We must have a fire," said the trapper, one morning, after an

unusually frosty night. "This is too cold. Can't we build one in the

hall, chief?"

"The smoke will suffocate us; we could not stay in doors with it," said

Whirlwind.

"Why don't you build it in one of the windows? the smoke could then go

out, while much of the heat would come in," said Edward.

"Better yet," said Sidney: "build a chimney by one of the windows, then

all the smoke will go out, and all the heat come in."

"You have it exactly," said the trapper. "I wonder we did not think of

it before. What say you, chief--shall we have the chimney?"

The chief, not only assenting, but entering with alacrity into the

project, the whole party went to work to collect the material, of which

there was plenty, but as the blocks were nearly all large ones that lay

round them, they had to bring them from the mass of ruins by the river,

which was of smaller material, and which they could handle to better

advantage. They worked hard all that day, Sidney standing by quite

uneasy, because they would not allow him to help. The next morning they

mixed some mud and clay for mortar, and commenced laying up the

chimney, and succeeded by night in finishing a very serviceable, though

not a very beautiful one. They found, on building a fire in it, that it

worked to a charm, filling the room with a genial warmth and cheerful

light, while it carried away all the smoke.

They had gathered some twenty bushels of fruit, that tasted like our

apples, but resembled a pear in shape and color, which was very hard

and tough, not fit to eat then, but which, the chief said, would be

good in midwinter. They had taken the precaution to gather them by his

advice--he having made some large baskets of the pliable twigs of

willow, in which they were conveyed from the trees to the temple, where

they were deposited in the room they occupied.

"The fire will injure them," said the chief. "We must put them in

another room in order to save them."

"There is one adjoining us, that opens like ours from the hall. We can

clear out that as we did this, and make it a store house. We shall need

some place to keep our fruit and nuts in, which it is time now to

gather, and also our dried venison," said the trapper. "It is best to

make ourselves as comfortable as we can while here, for as the winter

will soon be on us, nothing but an especial providence can get us out

of the scrape we are in, until the weather is warm enough for us to

travel again."

"I am the cause of your wintering here. If it had not been for me, you

would all have been home now, instead of being, we don't know where,"

said Sidney, who was often gloomy in his weakened state.

"Perhaps we should, and then, perhaps, we might have wandered into a

worse place. Indeed, we ought to be thankful for the shelter and fruits

we have found. I hardly think many that are carried away by savages,

escape as well as we have, and then find such winter quarters," said

Jane, glancing complacently round the room, for, to tell the truth, she

felt a sort of pride in the ample blazing fire, soft skin-carpeted

floor, numerous seats, with gay colored skins thrown over them, and

their couches, on which they slept, neatly spread over with skins,

while at one corner, in a little nook screened from view by skins

joined together and hung around, was a couch appropriated to her own

use, covered with the finest furs they had taken--for the trapper had

set his snares from the first day of their abode there, and their store

of furs and skins was fast accumulating.

"We are here, that is a fact that cannot be doubted," said the trapper,

"and if I knew the way out, and had my rifle, ammunition, a supply of

hounds and traps with me, I would not leave it until spring, if I

could, for the whole valley is filled with the right kind of game.

There is a beaver dam a mile down the stream, which contains some of

the finest coated fellows I ever saw. I have got some more there, and

will show fur that is fur, or else I will give you leave to call me no

trapper."

"What matters it whether we are in one part of the forest or another?"

said the chief, addressing Howe. "We have lost our home, now we have

made one, even better in some respects than the red man ever has. The

hunting ground is good--then let us be contented to live here.

Whirlwind is a warrior; he has taken the scalp from his enemies in

battle--he is a chief; he has led his warriors to victory. Let the

white chief give him the antelope for his squaw, and he will no more go

out to battle; but remain here, where the Great Spirit has led him, and

spend his days in filling his wigwam with the softest furs, best fish

and venison in the forest, and the antelope's life shall be happy as

the singing bird, and bright as the sun.'

"Why, Jane, what does this mean?" asked Edward, bursting into a fit of

uncontrollable laughter, that awoke the echoes from the venerable pile

that had slept through a long list of ages. But Jane did not know

herself what it meant, as the expression of blank astonishment on her

face amply testified. But Sidney for one, knew precisely the meaning of

it, and with flashing eyes and clenched hand, he limped to the side of

the chief, with a threatening attitude. Howe saw the material he had to

deal with, and thought it best to interfere to prevent ill-feeling, as

well as to get such an idea out of the chief's head.

"When Jane has grown up she can speak for herself. The white men do not

give away their maidens: when they are old enough they select for

themselves."

"Whirlwind can wait," said the chief complacently.

Jane turned her head, and placed her hand over her mouth to keep down

the smile that would come, as her eye caught her uncle's grave

countenance, for he saw at a glance it would now require all his tact

to undeceive him, in regard to the possibility of such a union, and yet

retain his friendship. Sidney would have had the matter settled on the

spot, but the trapper motioned him to keep silent, which he did, though

his lips were compressed, and his looks angry and threatening.

"Come," said the trapper, cheerfully, "we will clear out the adjoining

room, and take these apples from here, then we will be ready to gather

in our nuts to-morrow.

"A disagreeable place this," said he, as he commenced scraping up the

accumulated mass and throwing it out of the window.

"Probably, it is a long while since it was cleansed," said Jane. "A

very singular place, and if we could get home safe at last, it would be

worth a little trouble and privation to have seen it."

"Something new again: wonders will never cease," said the trapper,

holding up a vessel of some kind of heavy material, oval at the bottom,

and capable of containing some two gallons.

"It looks like a dinner kettle; but how could a dinner kettle get

here?"

"You don't think the people that used to live here lived without

eating, do you?" said Howe.

"Or, that they knew how to build houses like this, and did not know how

to make a dinner pot."

The rest thought they must have known how to do so natural a thing, as

the proof of it was before them, and then the question arose; could

they use it themselves? "For, if we can," said Jane, "we can have such

nice stews and soups."

"Which we can eat with a _split stick_, as we do our meat, especially

the _soup_," said Edward.

"We can have some nice wooden spoons made for that," replied the

trapper. "I really think the kettle can be put in a cookable order, by

taking off a coat or two of rust."

"Here is another just like it," said the chief, dragging out a similar

vessel.

"You see," said Howe, "the people must not only have eaten like

civilized people, but had a good appetite, or we should not find so

many vessels in one place."

The room being cleansed, the fruit and dried venison were removed from

the warm room, and the next day they began to gather in their store of

nuts. Butternuts, walnuts, and hickory nuts, were gathered in large

quantities, as well as acorns which, when roasted, formed a delicious

as well as nutritious food. Chestnuts were also gathered, as well as

the pine knots; these last were mostly for the light they would give

when burning, the only thing excepting their fire, which they were

dependent on to illumine their house. The collection of these occupied

them a number of days. Then the chief and Edward took the baskets, and

went down the stream in search of yampa, a root much used for food by

the Indians. This they found in abundance, about two miles distant, and

collected a number of baskets full of it.

When these precautionary measures were completed, they felt a security

and satisfaction about them which they had not felt before. The fact of

their being lost was shorn of half its terrors. Their door was

barricaded against the cold and starvation. Sidney had made up his mind

it was his fate to have the worst of the trouble; for, weak in body,

his arm still in a sling, he was unable to join in the busy

preparations that the rest entered into with such a keen relish. This

worried him; but not half as much as did the assiduous, delicate

attention which the chief bestowed on Jane. Had the chief been hunting

and procured game, it was laid at her feet; did he secure a bird of

rare plumage, its plumes fantastically arranged, were modestly

presented to her; and furs of rare softness and beauty in profusion

adorned her apartment, at the request of the chief. Unwilling to

offend, and as he had never spoken on the subject to her, she could do

nothing but accept them with the best grace she could. She saw how it

irritated Sidney, though she thought little of it after the moment,

supposing his illness caused the irritation as much as the singular

mode of winning favor pursued by the chief.

No buffalo had yet been seen in the valley, and the chief had more than

once expressed his belief they could be found by following the open

country down the valley a few miles. Making himself a strong lasso, and

with hunting-knife, bow and arrows, and tomahawk, he set out one day,

more for the sport than anything else. After proceeding about seven

miles over a broad, heavily wooded valley without any signs of the

desired game he began to think he was too far in the mountains from a

prairie for them, and was about to retrace his steps when a rustling at

a little distance attracted his attention. Going thither, as he

approached, a wolf darted up from the spot, and with a few leaps was

out of sight. The chief soon saw he had been feeding on a wild horse

that had died of old age and looked as though it had lain there some

days. However the sight seemed to excite him, and after marking the

trees to designate his course, he closely scanned the tracks around and

then started farther down the valley at a rapid pace.

After travelling some ten miles farther, he had the satisfaction to

come up with the drove. They were not feeding, but some were laying

down, others standing leisurely around, evidently unaware of the

proximity of the chief, who divesting himself of all his weapons but

the lasso, with exceeding caution crawled along the ground without

rustling the leaves or branches until within throw of the nearest,

which was a young brown colt of great beauty and graceful proportions.

Winding one end of the lasso around his wrist, he gently raised

himself. The lasso whirled above the colt, and the next instant closed

around its throat. The rest of the horses with a snort darted away,

leaving the terrified colt plunging and rearing with the Indian who had

sprung on its back, where he now clung with perfect security. Seeing

its companions flying down the valley it too leaped away after them

making fearful jumps over brooks and logs for many miles, every few

minutes rearing and plunging in its mad endeavors to free itself from

its burthen, until covered with foam and trembling in every limb it

paused, and turning its head gazed wildly and terrified on the chief,

who smoothed it gently as he spoke to it mildly, and then holding the

lasso tight in his hand, slipped off its back. Feeling the burthen

removed it attempted to escape, but being still held it was soon

subdued and induced to follow the chief. The colt seemed to understand

that it was a captive, for its manner became subdued and quiet under

the hands of its captor who viewed its symmetrical proportions with the

eye of a connoisseur. The chief actually laughed aloud at his success.

He had now a horse, it was so like old times, and with this he could

pursue the herd until he caught others, when he had it perfectly

trained. Satisfied with his day's hunt, he followed the tracks of the

herd back, sometimes riding, then again walking, as the fancy struck

him, until he reached the temple about sunset, where he and his prize

were greeted with every demonstration of joy.

With a grave, dignified countenance he led the colt to where Jane

stood, and placing a halter, which he had tied around its neck in place

of the lasso, in Jane's hand, he said:

"Whirlwind's gift to the antelope," and walking away left the young

girl in possession of his noble love-token.

Puzzled and blushing at her awkward position. Jane turned to her uncle

an imploring look, who amused and laughing, came forward and catching

her by the arms, seated her on her prize.

"Ride her round a few minutes, the chief expects it," he whispered in

her ear. Obeying him, she walked it back and forth before them a few

times, then slipping off placed the halter in her uncle's hand.

"Here chief," said the trapper, "Jane is well pleased with your present

and desires you to take good care of it for her, and will never be

better pleased than when she sees you on its back."

The chief, with a gratified look, led away the colt, and fastening it

to a sapling, took a skin from which he cut a long stout halter so that

it could have the range of a few rods, and fastening it left it to feed

on the wild grass and herbage around.

"Look here, uncle," said Sidney, as the chief walked away, "I wish I

was dead or well, I don't particularly care which."

"Why, boy, what is in the wind now? Why the rest of us are trying to

make out something good of a bad business, while you are fretting and

fuming like a caged lion. Be easy, boy, and if you cannot be easy, do

as we do, and be as easy as you can."

"It is well enough to say be easy, crippled, helpless, and obliged to

eat of the things the rest of you bring in; to sit here all day long

and be pitied, while that black rascal----"

"Hold! hold!--not another word like that," said the trapper, sternly.

"We are too much indebted to as noble a heart as ever beat, for a

return like this. What matters it, then, that his ways and complexion

are not like ours? His father was my father's friend, as well as my

own; and him I have known from earliest boyhood, and to this hour have

never known him guilty of a mean or dishonest act."

"What greater, more dastardly act of meanness could he perpetrate, than

stealing away the heart of that young girl, or are you so blind you

cannot see through his manoeuvring?"

"Sidney, you are not yourself to-night," said the trapper, "I am

convinced of that, and I do wrong to chide you: sickness and suffering,

toil and privation have unnerved you. When you are well, you will see

things clearer than you do now. Come, I must take you in, the night dew

is falling fast and cold around us. I see and know all that is going

on, and understand the chief much better than you do. Trust in my

management of the affair, and you will have no cause to complain at

last, however appearances at times may be against you."

The chief was now as contented and happy as if he had never known other

scenes than those that lay around him. The lodge, as he called their

abode, was filled with fruit, venison, skins and furs; the antelope

accepted his offering, and a half-tamed, high mettled colt was at his

command, on which, sometimes for a whole day, he went dashing madly

through the forest, a piece of hide around the colt's neck his only

accoutrements. Then he was in his element and free, with the fresh

mountain air fanning his dusky brow, infusing into his stalwart frame

new life and vigor.

Snow now began to fall, and the fierce northern winds swept through the

forests, creaking the leafless limbs of the trees as they swayed them

to and fro, anon rending them in twain, and scattering the fragments

over the white mantled earth. The wanderers now spent most of their

time within the temple, by their glowing fire that blazed so

cheerfully, the window and door closed tightly by skins, shutting out

the cold air. Here they amused themselves in recounting past scenes,

and strange wild legends with which they had become familiar. Without a

written language, the Indian preserves his national and domestic

history solely by oral instruction, handed down from father to son.

Thus every tribe has its own legends, while many vague traditions of

national history are peculiar to the whole of the North American

Indians without regard to tribe.

They had been kept within the tent for many days by a series of storms,

and their stock of fresh meats had become quite exhausted, when Howe

and the chief announced their determination to go on a hunt for game.

They could not take the colt, as in the deep snow it would make more

trouble than it would be of service to them. Telling the children to be

of good cheer, and keep up a good fire, they launched forth, protected

from the cold by the thick, warm fur garments they had manufactured for

themselves, and armed with their bows and arrows they had made also,

they gaily took the way down the valley as the one where game was

generally most abundant. A pair of partridges, a wild turkey, and an

antelope, were soon brought down; but as it was early in the day, and

they were only warmed in the sport, they hung these on a sapling, and

proceeded on.

"I tell you what, chief," said the trapper, "I am in for a buck. They

are never so fat and tender as now, and I intend to have the plumpest,

nicest venison steak for supper there is in this forest, if I have to

work for it. There are signs of them about, and a little further down

we shall find where they have been browsing, if I am not mistaken."

"My brother is right," said the chief; "yonder they have passed, and

their trail is still fresh in the snow. There are many of them, and our

wigwam will again be full of fat venison. Hist, yonder they are; they

will see us if we do not move with great caution. You take the circuit

round that clump of spruce to the right, and I will keep farther down

to the left."

Warily they made their way until within shot of them, when they

discharged their arrows, and one fine doe selected by the chief, fell,

shot through the heart. Howe was not so fortunate, he having selected a

noble buck, who bounded away with the arrow sticking in his side, but

from the quantity of blood that flowed from his wound, staining the

snow, they knew he could not run far. Hanging up the doe after dressing

it, they set out to recover the buck, which they expected to find dead

not far off. In this they were mistaken: he led them many miles before

he gave out, and by the time he was dressed, and they were ready for

returning, the sun had passed the meridian.

They had not retraced their steps more than half a mile, when a wailing

sound was faintly heard from a thicket a few rods distant. They paused

in a listening attitude. Again came the sound like the wail of a young

child.

"A panther," said Howe, "he wants some of our venison, perhaps a bite

of us. Let us on or we shall have to fight."

Again it was heard now louder, and then followed a heavy sob and groan.

"No panther," said the chief throwing down his load and making for the

thicket. Howe began to think so too, and was following, when the chief,

with a cry of surprise, disappeared beneath in the thicket. Howe

hastened forward, and there on the bare ground which she had cleared of

snow lay a young squaw with a papoose but a few years old huddled in

her arms which she was vainly endeavoring to shield from the cold. They

were terribly emaciated, with the seal of gaunt famine in their sunken

eyes and hollow cheeks. The mother's limbs were frost bitten and

entirely benumbed with cold.

"Lost," said the chief; "she has been lost like us in these

interminable wilds."

"We must save her," said the trapper. "Wrap her in that skin from the

venison while I build a fire to warm her by and cook her some meat.

Poor thing, she looks as though she was nearly dead with hunger and

cold. She is human, see the tears in her eyes as she hugs that little

thing closer in her arms. Bless me but it makes a child of me--poor

thing! poor thing!"

Gathering some wood, the trapper soon had a large place cleared from

snow, and a fire was quickly kindled, in the fierce heat of which some

of their slices of steaks were held a few minutes then given to the

famished woman. Eagerly seizing them she held one to the mouth of the

child, when it seized it and commenced sucking the juicy food with

great voracity, while the rest disappeared with a rapidity that

astonished even the chief, who was so rarely astonished at anything.

"I would like to know who she is and where she came from," said Howe.

"Ask her if you can make her understand."

But she could not understand them, nor could they her. She told them by

signs that she had been wandering a long while and could not find her

home, and begged them not to leave her there to die.

"That we will not, chief; you stay with the woman and I will take a

load of venison home and return with the colt for the woman to ride on,

for she is too weak to travel."

The squaw looked her thanks while she pressed her child to her bosom as

if she would "say we shall still live perhaps to see home and kindred

when the snows melt from the hills."

Chapter Thirteenth.

Jane's reception of the Indian woman. Whirlwind's indifference.

Condition of the party. Sidney begins to use his broken arm. Their

health. They cannot calculate the day nor month. The chief imagines he

has found the locality of the Arapahoes hunting grounds. He becomes

enamored of Jane. The party troubled about it. Howe explains his

experience in love matters. A reconnoitre suggested. Edward joins them.

Deer chased by a wild man. The chief lassoes him. A desperate struggle.

The wild man captured and taken into camp. Things in the camp, &c.

The young mother and her babe received a warm welcome from Jane, whose

tender heart ached as she scanned the half frozen, emaciated beings

before her; and even repining Sidney was forced to acknowledge that his

sufferings had been nothing in comparison to those the mother and babe

had endured. A few weeks spent under the hands of their gentle nurse

had a wonderful effect in their condition, and the babe, especially,

had regained its infantile merriment, and played at rough and tumble on

the soft skins before the fire like any other child of two years, as

the squaw reckoned its age. It was very lively and frolicsome, and

served to make merry many an hour that otherwise would have lagged

heavily on their hands. Not so its mother; she had regained her

strength, but no effort could bring back the smile to her lip or chase

the look of sadness from her brow. She had, from the first, exhibited

great signs of fear of the chief, and did she catch his eye resting on

her she would hurriedly gather her child in her arms, and with a wild

look of terror cower away into the corner of the room farthest from him

she could get, and there sit murmuring in wailing tones to the babe

nestling in her arms.

The chief, after the first day of her rescue, exhibited perfect

indifference to her presence, and rarely gave her a glance; but they

had noticed that when his eye did rest on her or the child it had a

peculiar exulting savage glitter seen at no other times, for his eye

usually had a mild expression, and they had known him to exhibit

disinterested humane acts that set at defiance the supposition that he

was devoid of sensibility.

This was a new phase in the character of the Indian, and one that

highly amazed the young people. As for Howe, though he did sometimes

open his eyes with wonder, it did not interest him, and he never spoke

to them of the "by play" that was every day growing more interesting to

the younger ones, and becoming a great torture to the young mother.

Jane, who was daily becoming more and more attached to her guests, used

every art in her power to inspire her with more confidence, and at the

same time assure her of the kindness and friendship of the chief, but

without success. She was equally silent as to what tribe she belonged;

for, though she had learned to use many words correctly in expressing

her wants, she never seemed to learn any to express the past with

regard to herself, except that she was lost, and could not find her way

home. Jane had made her and the babe clothing before she had recovered

her strength; but, though it was as neatly done as that she herself

wore, the squaw had, as soon as she was able to move around, taken some

skins, and had manufactured a suit for herself and child, that was

really pretty, so neatly was it done. This finished, she made one also

for Jane, presenting it to her with gestures of gratitude for the

kindness she and her babe had received at her benefactress' hands.

Jane looked really much better when adorned in the handiwork of the

young squaw, than she did in her own, for the suits they had on when

carried off by the Indians, had been worn and torn to shreds in their

wanderings, and they were all dressed in skins dried with the fur on,

having been made soft and pliable under the skilful hands of Howe and

the chief.

It was now midwinter, and the valley was covered with a mantle of snow,

but not as deep as they had anticipated it would be. They found they

were partly defended from the storms, by a spur curving round to the

principal range of mountains, giving the valley the form of a horse

shoe--three high, precipitous sides breaking the storms of wind and

snow, so as to make it really a very desirable situation. And a most

fortunate one it was to the wanderers, the trapper often declaring,

that if he ever reached home again, he would conduct the whole family

to the spot, as it would not only make a desirable farm, but afford

rare facilities for hunting and trapping, which desideratum was of the

utmost importance to both Howe and Mr. Duncan.

It is really surprising to one reared in the lap of luxury, how little

is actually necessary to support the human body healthfully. Take these

wanderers, for instance, utterly debarred from procuring the simplest

products of civilization, entirely thrown on such resources as savages

are called to practice to sustain life and health, yet they have not

only surmounted great obstacles, but are undaunted by those that lay

before them, and have actually made themselves comfortable. Simple as

their abode and fare were, nay, even extremely rude, yet they

experienced a satisfaction and enjoyment when they retraced their

wanderings since they were carried away captives, and the feeling of

thankfulness for their wonderful escape from the savage cannibals,

begat one of contentment in their present lot. It is true, they were

fortunate in having found and occupied the building in ruins, as it

afforded them a more secure shelter than they could have built, with

the small complement of tools they possessed, yet it is a safe venture

to conclude, that had they not discovered them, they would have made

themselves an abode that would have shielded them from wet and cold.

There were four rooms in the temple, two only of which had been

cleared. They had often been in the others, but as they had no use for

them, they were left unmolested. The goat and the kid were stabled

nightly in the hall, but as she had become so tame as to return at

nightfall, she was allowed to roam at pleasure through the day.

Following her instinct, she sought her food among the crags and defiles

of the mountains, thus relieving them from the trouble of providing for

her. When the snow first began to cover the ground in early winter, it

caused them much anxiety as to how she was to be provided for until

spring. Her milk was of too much importance to think of killing her, or

turning her loose to run wild again, and she was at first tethered so

as to prevent her wandering away. This was relinquished after a while,

when they saw she returned of her own accord.

The colt caused them more trouble. Recently captured, they did not dare

to turn it loose to seek food as they did the goat; and the only way

left for them, was to tether it in the thickets of maple and

basswood--the young tender growth of which the wild prairie horses are

very fond of. These thickets were usually studded with a luxuriant

undergrowth of small shrubs and evergreens that were very nutritious,

and of which the fat condition of the wild horses, buffaloes, deer,

antelope, mountain sheep, and goats that feed thereon, is sufficient

proof. Often in the winter, plats of grass may be found in patches

sheltered from the storms; but the chief dependences for food of the

multitudes of cattle that roam through the western wilds, is the

luxuriant growth of shrubs that spring up uncropped in the summer, as

the cattle then prefer the tender grass on the prairies.

Sidney, to his great satisfaction, now began to use his arm without the

slightest difficulty, and with his strength his spirits resumed their

wonted healthful vigor, greatly to the relief of the trapper and Jane,

who had been under the necessity of keeping a watch over him to prevent

his coming to a rupture with the chief. He was now active, and only

laughed heartily at what had annoyed him before, and tormented Jane

unmercifully on the conquest she had made.

They were all in excellent health, and only waited with impatience for

the winter to break up, so that they could resume their journey in

safety in search of home. One thing alone grieved them--the evident

increasing terror with which Mahnewe, the Indian mother, regarded the

chief. In order to free her as much from his presence as possible, Howe

had proposed long hunts, by going to the forest at early dawn, and not

returning until evening. They enjoyed the sport, as it not only placed

Mahnewe at ease, but they gained a perfect knowledge of the surrounding

country, which was of much importance to them, as well as kept their

larder supplied with abundance of game.

They had lost the day and month; and now their only guide was the

fluctuations of the weather, of which, fortunately for themselves, they

were good observers, and could calculate within half a month of the

time at any season of the year. About the middle of February, as they

calculated time, Howe and the chief went out one morning for a hunt,

and following the valley down a mile or two, crossed the stream, and

ascending a knoll, stood on its summit, surveying the country around

them. The trees being shorn of their foliage, gave them an

uninterrupted view of the broad valley, with its barrier of hills, and

peak rising above peak, until they towered up and seemed almost to

pierce the sky.

"I do not think it would be safe for us to cross this mountain," said

the trapper. "Our homes, I do not think, are in that direction. We must

have been deceived in our course."

"Yonder," said the chief, pointing down the valley, "are the hunting

grounds of the Arapahoes. Far away, over a broad prairie, four days'

journey, the warriors of Whirlwind follow another chief to battle, and

listen to him in council, as they were wont to their lost chief, whose

death song they have sung amidst the wail of the squaws. Yet Whirlwind

does not grieve. He has found another squaw, fleeter than the antelope,

more graceful than the fawn, whose voice is like the singing birds, and

face fairer than imagery of the spirit land. Let my brother go to his

home, but Whirlwind's home is where the antelope is, he will live and

die with her."

"Pshaw! chief. You will be as much the chief of your people when you

return as ever. Probably they have supposed you dead and elected

another chief; still, according to your customs, if you return, the

authority would be by universal acclamation, given back into your

hands. As for that other little matter, why the child is too young to

talk of it. Our first great object is to find our way out of this

scrape, and the rest will then come natural enough."

"Whirlwind will hunt the deer and beaver here: this is his home; he is

not a child, but a warrior, and can wait for the antelope," said the

chief in a tone of decision not to be mistaken.

"I can tell you, chief," said Howe, "we will find our way out, and

bring the whole family here. This place will exactly suit Jane's

father, and then you know she would be so much more contented if they

were here?" he added.

The chief regarded the speaker with an inquiring glance for a moment,

then said: "Whirlwind is not to be played with. When the antelope says

she will go with him, he will take her, if she is hemmed in with

arrows."

"Whirlwind, I will be plain with you," said Howe, "for I know you are

noble, generous, and brave. Jane is not my child, and is not mine to

dispose of; but as she has no other guardian here, I will protect her

until once more restored to her family. You must wait until then, and

if her family consent, and she desires it, I shall make no objections.

Perhaps by that time your love fit will be over, and you will not want

her. There is Mahnewe, why don't you make love to her?"

"The eagle mates not with the owl, nor the Arapahoe with the Snake,"

retorted the savage angrily.

"Oh! well, just as you like; yet I think she is rather pretty. Come,

chief, you cannot help but see it, as well as I. Don't you think she

would make a wigwam look comfortable, and more homelike than Jane?"

"I cannot tell; I never see the stars when the sun shines," returned

the Indian.

"It is a pity no one but an old bachelor heard that compliment it is

such a waste," laughed the trapper. "I see you are over ears in love,

chief. I know precisely how you feel. I was once in love myself. It did

not last long though, for my flame gave my keepsakes to a good for

nothing popinjay from down east; one for a string to bind round a

broken knapsack, the other to carry home with him for a show. That was

enough for me. I just told her I was done with her."

"You in love! that is capital! ha! ha!" rang out a voice behind the

speaker, who, turning round, stood face to face with Edward, who had

taken it into his head to share in the sport, and, following their

track in the snow, had come up with them unperceived.

"What sent you here? anything the matter at the camp?" they asked in a

breath.

"Nothing at all, that is why I came. I mistrusted you had some fun

together out here, and I came to share it. Come, uncle, give the whole

history of your love making. The bare idea of your being in love is

rich," and the merry boy laughed until the woods rang with the joyous

peals.

"I shall do no such thing. Do you think because I am old and ugly now,

that I have always been so. There has been a day, boy, when----"

"You were once handsome, uncle, that is a fact, and they do say I look

just as you used to. Come now, tell us about this affair."

"Well," said the trapper, mollified by the flattery, "when I was about

three-and-twenty, I was just about as green as young, and took it into

my head to get married, having persuaded myself that I was in love, and

that, if I did not, I should not live long. Polly Crane was a nice

girl, she could hoe corn, thresh grain, break fractious colts, or shoot

a bear, just as well as I could myself. She was just the one for me,

and we had got everything all fixed to be married, when a chap came

travelling up there, (making mischief I thought) dressed exactly like a

minister, only I knew he was not, he used such profane language. Well

what does he do but begin making love to Polly, which made me very

angry."

"'Never mind, Andy,' said Polly. 'You know I don't care for him or

anybody else but you. I am only trying to see how bad he will feel when

we are married.'

"'Go ahead then,' I said, 'if that is your game,' and sure enough she

did go ahead, as I soon found out. When I was up round Lake Superior,

the winter before, trapping with father, we got one night by mistake,

into a grizzly bear's den, intending to spend the night. We soon found

out our mistake, when we saw some cubs, and got ourselves out of the

scrape as soon as we got in; but, as the cubs were such pretty things,

I thought what a nice keepsake one of them would make Polly. So I hid

one under my jacket unbeknown to father, until the old bear came

snarling about us, after we had built a fire and laid down to sleep.'

"'Wonder what's the matter with the beast,' said father, 'guess she has

tracked us from her den.'

"'Guess she misses her cub,' said I.

"'By George, Andy, you have got us in a fine scrape. However, my lady,'

said the old man to the bear, 'you can't have that cub now: we never

give up to anybody;' and, with that, he fired a ball between her eyes.

But instead of dying, she attacked us, and we had a desperate fight.

She got the worst of it though, for we carried off both her skin and

cub. You ought to have seen the cub, it was a beauty, and when I gave

it to Polly, she pretended that she thought it the nicest keepsake she

ever saw. The other was, the skin of a snake. It was nearly six feet

long, and very wide, spotted all over its back with white, brown, and

black spots, and its sides were striped with brown, so that, when I

split it open in the middle, it looked like a ribbon. I made it as

soft, smooth and pretty as anything you ever saw.

"I did really think Polly was trying to deceive him, until he was going

away, when I saw that pretty snake skin tied around his plunder, and as

if that was not enough with a string in hand, he was leading away the

cub of the grizzly bear that I had brought all the way from Superior

for her."

"My brother's squaw's tongue was forked--the antelope's tongue is not

forked, she cannot lie," said the chief.

"Look here, chief; they are all alike. When they say they will have

you, they mean they will if they don't get out of the notion of it."

"My brother's heart is dark, and, looking through it, he sees nothing

but gloom, where I see sunshine," returned the chief.

"That is, I am to understand, you are in love, and uncle thinks it is

an exploded fallacy," said Edward, laughing; for, in truth, he was in a

merry mood, and his uncle's mishaps did not have a tendency to lessen

it in the least.

"It is nonsense, all nonsense," said the trapper.

"Hist!" said the chief, laying his finger on his lip, "there is large

game approaching!--there! I hear it again: have your arrows in

readiness," he continued, after a moment's pause.

"Deer, perhaps," said the trapper, "it comes in leaps; I hear it

distinctly."

"Yes, deer," said the chief, drawing his bow to his shoulder as a noble

buck bounded in sight, with his tongue protruding from his mouth, and

his eyes had a wild look of agony and terror, such as is only seen at a

moment of despair.

"Chased by a wolf! let the deer pass and shoot the pursuer," said the

trapper; but, scarcely were the words spoken, when a giant form covered

with hair, but bearing in form a semblance to humanity, came bounding

after, clearing from ten to twelve feet at every bound. On he came,

and, at the base of the knoll on which they stood, overtook his prey,

and grasping it by the throat, with one hand dealt it a succession of

furious blows on the head which knocked it down, when choking it until

life was extinct, he stood upright contemplating his prey.

They had instinctively dropped their arrows when they saw the pursuer;

and Whirlwind motioning the others to keep still, glided on towards the

singular creature, slipping from tree to tree until within a few rods

of him, when, taking from beneath his tunic his lasso, which he always

carried with him, he cut a circle with it in the air, then giving it a

throw, it quickly descended, girdling the strange being in its fold.

With an unearthly yell, he attempted to free himself from its coil.

Unfortunately it did not confine either arm, as the chief hoped it

would, and the creature finding it could neither break the stout hide

nor gnaw it off, sprang with ferocity at his captor, who had just

succeeded in fastening the other end of the lasso to a tree, and before

he had time to get out of the way, seized and threw him on the snow

with terrific force.

Howe saw the chief at the mercy of the monster, and in a moment an

arrow winged its flight, burying itself in its shoulder, causing the

monster to lose his hold. Another and another were shot in quick

succession, striking where they would not give a mortal wound, for it

looked so human, the trapper would not kill him if he could save the

life of the chief otherwise. This new attack puzzled the monster for a

moment; then seeing Howe and Edward, who had approached within a few

yards of him, he rushed with such force upon them, that they had no

time to get out of reach, and they were also caught by him and hurled

to the ground, but not before a blow dealt by Edward with a club had

broken his left arm. At that moment the chief, who had recovered from

the stunning effect of the fall, rushed upon the monster, and with a

single blow of his tomahawk, felled him to the ground, and before he

could rally, the lasso that was still on him, was tied around his arms

and feet to render him powerless. In defiance of the wounds he had

received, he was in nowise tamed, but glared on them, howling and

gnashing his teeth, while the foam rolled from his mouth, and he

writhed and rolled with rage on the snow a captive. The stout lasso of

hide they had cut in pieces, and so tied his hands and feet that he was

powerless to do them harm.

They now had a chance to examine the powerful creature at leisure. He

was entirely naked, with a perfect human form and face, but was

perfectly covered with hair, except the forehead, eyelids, palms of the

hands, and soles of the feet. They were surprised to see that the skin,

where it was protected from the sun by the hair, was white and fair as

their own. He was powerfully built, full six feet high, and uttered no

sound that approached the pronunciation of words; a succession of

snarls, growls, and yells, were all the sounds he uttered, and these

approached, when accompanied by his efforts to release himself, the

terrific, nearer than anything they had ever heard.

"Well, uncle, what will you do with him now you have got him?" said

Edward.

"Kill him," spoke up the chief, indignantly.

"Take him home and tame him," said the trapper. "He is a human being

like ourselves; probably has been lost in infancy, and grown up wild,

without doubt, never having seen his kind before to-day."

"He will kill us if you take him home," said the chief; "better shoot

him."

"No, chief, I could not kill him, but will see he does us no harm. I

will make him as tame as a kitten in a month."

"How will you get him home, uncle? We can not carry him, and if you

untie his feet he will run away."

"That is what I was just thinking about. I think one of us had better

return for the colt, and make him ride."

"Very good, if you can get him on and make him stay there," said the

chief.

"Make him go himself: tie him so he cannot run away," suggested Edward.

"I am not sure but that would be the best plan," said Howe. "I am sorry

he got that blow on his arm; I am sure it pains him; see how he

attempts to raise it, and groans at every motion he makes."

"Do you really think, uncle, he is human? It strikes me he is a monkey,

or an orang-outang, rather than human."

"There is neither monkey nor orang-outang in the North American

forests. One such snow as now lies on the ground, would kill a myriad

of them. I am quite confident of the customer I have to deal with. He

is no more nor less than a wild man, whose long exposure to the

elements, and total isolation from every human being, has caused the

hair to grow over his body. This also explains why he cannot speak like

us."

They then endeavored to get him forward, having partly untied his feet

so as to allow him to move. The chief, with a stout cord, went forward

and endeavored to urge him on, but the wild man refused to move. After

exhausting every plan they could devise, they bethought themselves of

coercion. Howe accordingly raised a club as if he would strike, when,

with a wild cry of alarm, he raised his eyes imploringly, at the same

time starting forward, when the chief moving on, gave him to understand

he was to follow.

On perceiving what was required of him, and finding it was useless to

attempt an escape, he made no further opposition to follow, although it

was not safe to be near him as he gnashed with his teeth at every one

that approached him.

Reaching the temple without further trouble, Edward called the

attention of Jane to the new addition to their family, and said with

perfect gravity--

"I really think you have one of the most devoted wooers; see what a

rare prize he has risked life and limb in securing for you, which he

begs you will have the kindness to accept from him in token of the love

he bears you."

"Why, what a monster it is," said Sidney, walking round and round it.

"It is a comical keepsake to give a girl, I must say. Really, chief,

you Indians have curious tastes about such matters."

"My brother gave his squaw a cub," retorted the chief, angrily, as they

all burst into a laugh at the very idea of the monster being presented

to Jane, who was casting furtive glances from it to the chief, and was

just beginning to think that she might next be called on to accept a

wolf or panther, and was casting in her mind the chances she had in

escaping such an infliction, when the chief said, as if divining her

thoughts.

"It is not for the antelope. See, Whirlwind kill it," and he raised his

tomahawk, and would have driven it into the wild man's skull had not

his arm been caught by the trapper.

"Chief! would you be a murderer?" asked the trapper, sternly. "See him

crouch! he fears you, and depend upon it, if we use our power over him

discreetly, we shall tame him."

The chief dropped his arm and doggedly walked away. Jane brought some

nuts and placing them where he could reach them, begged her uncle to

unbind the cord around his hand so that he could eat them. This he did

not think prudent to do until the broken bone was set, which, after a

great deal of trouble, he succeeded in doing, effectually binding up

the fracture with soft strips of the mountain sheep skin, of which they

had an abundance in their store room.

After this was done he was dressed in a tunic and small clothes, the

long hair was cut from his face as well as they could with their

hunting-knives, to which they had given an extra sharpening for the

occasion. Tightening the cord around his feet they unbound the cord

that confined his hands, when he seized the nuts, cracked them with his

teeth and devoured them with avidity.

"Broil him some steaks, Jane," said the trapper, "I think he is

hungry."

"There is a cold haunch of venison in the store room; perhaps he will

eat that," said Jane.

"Of course he will; bring it in." Cutting off some thick slices she

laid them before him; eyeing them intently for a moment as if not

knowing what they were, he cautiously turned them over and then turned

his eye with an inquiring look towards Jane, who smiling, cut off

another slice and commenced eating it. Seeing the action he cautiously

raised his slice to his lips; but as soon as he had tasted it all doubt

seemed to vanish, for the venison disappeared rapidly. Jane continued

to cut as long as he continued to eat, and when he had done gave him a

gourd of water to drink.

"I am afraid we have fed him too highly for his broken arm. There will

be danger of fever," said the trapper. They miscalculated his nature,

and supposed causes produced the same effects in a healthful and an

enervated constitution. This knowledge gradually dawned on them as day

after day went by without exhibiting the least derangement in his

system. From the first, he had been docile and obedient to Jane, and

when in the most violent paroxysms, if she spoke to him, his anger

vanished and his countenance assumed a pleasing expression. He had eyes

of clear, deep blue, large, quick and varying as the emotion in his

heart. They could see the passion that held sway over him by his eye;

for he had not, like his brothers, learned to dissemble and hide the

workings of the soul within. Howe had also become a great favorite with

him; but he feared the chief, always cowering and uttering a shrill cry

of fear if he came near him. Edward was also a favorite and spent much

of his time in learning him to pronounce words in which he was quite

successful, his powers of imitation seeming to be boundless. After he

had pronounced the first the difficulty seemed to vanish, and he was

never tired of repeating words after others. The greatest trouble they

experienced with him was during his fits of passion. Then he was

furious, tore his fur garments in shreds, and threw down every thing in

his reach. They had not dared to liberate him on account of these

paroxysms of anger, over which he did not seem to have the least

control. He evidently pined to be free again; for if left to himself he

uttered a low moan, while tears chased each other down his

weather-beaten cheeks.

Chapter Fourteenth.

The return of spring. Their thoughts of home. Preparations to continue

their journey. The chief insists upon their course being wrong. Escape

of the Wild Man. They discover a borough of Prairie Dogs. Traces of

Buffalo observable. They suffer from want of water. A party of Indians.

A beautiful landscape. A terrific storm. The chief rendered insensible

by a stroke of lightning. He recovers and returns to the camp.

The warm south wind now began to stir the air, while the lengthened

days, swelling buds, and melting snows, assured them the patiently

waited for and much desired spring had come.

"Home--father, mother, brothers, sister; for, where they are, there is

home. Shall we indeed see you and once more be folded in your arms?

Shall these wanderings ever cease, of which our souls are weary, and

our hearts are sick? Oh! home; thou hope of the weary, and haven of

rest, though thy place be the tomb, when shall we see thee!" they sadly

and feelingly exclaimed.

Howe and the chief made daily excursions down the valley, in search of

wild horses, being anxious to secure each member of their party one for

riding and two for pack horses. "For," said Howe, "we will start with

good horses, and as the summer is before us, it will go hard with us,

if we do not find home before cold weather comes again."

"Before the snows again fall," said the chief, "we will not only have

found the son of the great Medicine, but will be back here, never more

to leave again."

They were successful in their hunts, and a finer set of horses never

wore a halter than those wild ones they had secured, and which twice a

day they rode round the forest, in order to tame, and accustom them to

carry burthens. They had quite a store of nuts still on hand, packed in

bags made of skins, which they lashed on one of the horses' backs; and

their jerked and dried meats, together with a quantity of salt that

they collected at the salt spring, were packed on another; as was also,

half a dozen gourd shells, and one of the kettles they had found, which

had, from the many uses to which they applied it, become a necessity.

Three or four skins according to their thickness, that had been cured

with the hair on, were tightly sewed together for a saddle with small

strings, and the whole firmly bound on the horses' back by a broad

band. By means of the leather they had been enabled to make a very good

bridle for Jane and Edward, but Howe and the chief preferred riding

with a single band or string for a halter, and this they rarely held in

their hands, but went dashing through the forest, their hands free, and

their bodies bent almost to their horses' necks.

With something like the feeling of parting with a friend, they bade

adieu to the friendly shelter that had protected them from the wet and

cold so many months; the beautiful valley with its park-like trees,

many now in bloom; and the smooth verdant sward, its ruins, the sole

links of the present with the past, and the only token left that others

had lived, known joy and sorrow, and died on a land, supposed to have

never, before the present race become its masters, known a civilized

people.

They rode gaily forth--Howe with his niece and nephew, the Indian

chieftain, the timid Mahnewe with her child, and the wild man, whom

they had christened Oudin, from a habit he had of repeating a sound

very much like the pronunciation of that word. He had become quite

docile, understood many sentences, and could be made to understand by

words and signs all that was required of him. He also attempted to use

words in conveying his wants to others, and they noticed with pleasure,

his fits of passion were less frequent, and when they had passed away

he seemed ashamed of them.

Taking their course down the valley, which grew broader and gradually

assumed the appearance of a primitive forest, and pursued their way

along the stream that kept its course at the base of the mountain on

their right until night, when they encamped on its bank. At early dawn

they again commenced their journey, and leaving the stream, took their

course farther to the left, as the chief persisted in his belief that

their whole course had been wrong, and that in order to find their

friends, they must take another direction. Howe readily assented to

this; for, in fact, he was so completely bewildered that he was at a

loss what course should be pursued. The forest now began to lose much

of its grandeur, the soil grew sandy, and every species of verdure had

a stunted and gnarled appearance. At night they encamped on the verge

of a broad prairie that stretched far away towards the horizon. They

had much difficulty in procuring a supply of water for their horses

that night, the surface around where they were having a parched, arid

appearance; so different from the fresh verdure of the forest through

which they had been travelling, as to cause a feeling of momentary

sadness to come over them. This was, however, dispelled by the chief

who was highly elated at having struck the prairie.

"Over yonder," said he, stretching his hand towards the wide expanse

before them, "our friends await us. Let not our hearts fail us, for

before two more suns shall set, we will be among them!"

"So soon! Oh, what joy!" said Jane, transported with the thought.

"They may have left the encampment, and pursued their journey, if they

had the good fortune to get out of the hands of the Crows; and, then,

it may be many days before we overtake them."

"No," said the trapper. "If your father is living, he never leaves the

ground on which he was encamped, until he ascertains the fate of his

children. Probably he has built a cabin, and is cultivating a patch of

ground around it. He will never leave it if we do not return. If it is

not so, I have a wrong conception of the man."

With the chief for a guard, they lay down to sleep. On awakening the

next morning, they found, to their amazement, that Oudin had escaped to

the forest. This was a great disappointment to them, after they had

taken so much care to keep him safe and tame him, as he gave promise of

much intelligence when he should become civilized. There was no help

for it, as he had evidently watched his opportunity to escape and,

perhaps, was now miles away.

"The ungrateful wretch," said Edward, "to thus run away after we had

done our best to civilize him."

"Good!" said the chief; "glad he is gone. He would kill us some day had

he remained."

"I think not," said Howe. "But it is a mystery to me how he escaped

your vigilant eye and ear. Whirlwind, I think you must have slept

during your watch."

"No," returned the chief, proudly, "Whirlwind never sleeps when on

guard. Whirlwind saw Oudin loose his bands, but kept still, and when he

stole softly away, did not pursue him."

"What! you saw and permitted his escape?" said the trapper, hurt at the

want of good faith in the chief.

"He pined for the forest even as I should pine in the white man's

village. What right had we to detain him in a place, and confine him to

a life for which he had no inclination? Let him go; he is free, and it

is all he craves."

"We had the right of the civilized over the savage. It was our place to

instruct and enlighten him, and we have done him a great wrong in

permitting him to return to the brutish life he led when we found him."

"Would he be happier when civilized, and had learned to curse the Great

Spirit, and drink the white man's fire water? Is the red man happier

than he was before the white man came?" asked the Indian, scornfully.

"You know, chief," said the trapper, "no one regrets the wrongs my race

have inflicted on your own more than I do. I hope there is a brighter

dawn in store for you, and that you may live to bless the coming of my

people to your shores."

"The dawn of a never-ending day in the spirit land awaits us--no other.

I give you my hand, brother; let there be peace between us," said the

chief, sadly.

The trapper grasped the offered hand in a moment, and after due

preparation, they once more pursued their journey, taking their way

directly across the prairie that stretched out before them. Their

horses were fleet travellers, and they hurried over the smooth, green

sward that covered the prairie, for two hours, when they were brought

to a sudden pause by stumbling on a borough of prairie dogs, the ground

being tunneled in every direction underneath, leaving a thin crust of

earth, through which the horses broke, sending the yelping denizens

howling from their dens over the prairie in admirable fright and

confusion. Making a circuit round the deceptive traps of the snarling

curs, they again struck out for the distant boundary of the prairie,

which they hoped soon to reach. At noon they rested by a pool of

stagnant water, the first they had seen since morning, which was unfit

for use but of which the horses drank sparingly. The spring grass, now

tender and nutritious, was cropped with avidity by the horses, and

after a halt of two hours, they again pursued their journey. They soon

found the first buffalo they had seen since the preceding autumn, and

they hailed the sight of them as an omen of good. About sunset,

Whirlwind had the good fortune to kill one, and they deemed it prudent

to encamp, as it would be impossible for them to reach the boundary of

the prairie that night. Steaks constituted the chief feature of their

supper, and a rarity they were, having so long been deprived of them,

and which, with the addition of the Indian bread-root, made a no mean

repast.

They had searched every ravine, cavity, and hollow for more than a mile

around for fresh water, but without success. A pool of unwholesome

water similar to the one they rested by at noon, being all they found.

This was a little relief to the distressed horses, but none to them.

Dividing the milk of the goat between them, they lay down to sleep. At

dawn, they were again in motion; and after three hours' hard riding,

they saw the distant forest, that bounded the prairie, looming against

the horizon. Buffalo, antelope, elk, deer, and fowl now became quite

numerous, giving indications that the forest was well watered and

fertile. With renewed energy, they rode on, and about noon entered the

welcome heavily timbered forest--the surface of which was uneven and

rolling, sometimes rising in gentle hills, then towering in precipitous

cliffs, interspersed with sylvan dells, through which streamlets wound,

sometimes in quiet beauty, and again dashing down ledges of rock,

lashing their waters to a foam.

Eagerly they drank the waters of the limpid stream for which they as

well as their beasts had been suffering. Tired with their rapid marches

which the necessity of procuring water had forced them to take they

resolved to rest the remainder of the day. Selecting a spot by the

stream, shut in by tall cliffs on either side, they secured their

horses and were preparing to spend the night when the chief hurriedly

motioned them to be silent. He then with noiseless tread ascended the

cliff behind them. Evidently some new danger awaited them, and with

terror they clung to each other for protection from the unknown evil.

In half an hour he returned. "Indians yonder!" said he, briefly,

pointing towards the cliff on the opposite side of the stream.

"Have you seen and do you know them?" asked the trapper, adding,

"Perhaps we are nearer home, and they belong to some friendly tribes?"

"Does she?" asked the chief, turning with a scornful gesture towards

Mahnewe.

The squaw rising from the bank where she had been sitting advanced with

the look of sadness entirely dispelled from her face, which was now

sunny and radiant with joy.

"Mahnewe," said she, speaking earnestly and rapidly, "is the friend of

the white man, and so are her people. Over the hills yonder is their

village and these are their hunting grounds. Let not the white man

fear; he has saved the life of a wife of the chief, and Mahnewe will

answer for his safety."

"Are you sure of what you say?" asked Jane, whose dread of cannibals

was the torture of her life.

"Mahnewe cannot mistake the place of her people," said the squaw,

looking amused at the evident fright of the young girl.

"I mean of what tribe are they,--are you, Mahnewe?"

"The squaw will not tell," said the chief, tauntingly. "She knows they

are the enemies of the Arapahoes. The Snake fears the Eagle."

"Mahnewe is the daughter of a chief, and the wife of a chief. She is

not a coward; red blood is in her veins. She is a Snake, and fears not

the Arapahoe!"

"Come, this will never answer, chief! Leave Mahnewe to me. Now, tell me

truly,--are we on the hunting-grounds of the Snakes, and are you one of

that tribe?"

"Mahnewe has said it, and cannot lie," returned the woman earnestly,

and with great dignity of manner.

"If this is true, we are saved," said the trapper. "I have friends

among that people, and know my way home from their hunting-grounds."

"Are you sure of what you tell us, Mahnewe?" asked Sidney; "for a

mistake on this point might involve us all in destruction."

"Are not yonder the hills where my childhood's years were spent? Who

can forget the home of their kindred, the place of their birth?"

"Sometimes hills in the distance bear a resemblance to others, which

vanishes on a nearer approach," observed the trapper.

"Let Mahnewe go to her people, she fears not of finding strangers in

their place," said she, in pleasing tones.

"A good idea, uncle, let her go and ascertain positively; but keep the

child to prevent treachery," suggested Sidney.

"Mahnewe goes not without her child, if all our lives should depend on

her going!" said the squaw, decidedly.

"But consider, Mahnewe, if they should not prove to be your people the

child would only hinder your retreat, and if they should be, you can

return and claim it in safety," said Howe.

"If my brother listens to the forked tongue of the Snake's squaw, she

will guide the warriors of her people to our retreat, where we shall

all be slaughtered," said the chief.

"I think not, chief; there is an air of sincerity about the squaw that

dispels all thought of treachery in my mind; besides, she is under

great obligations to us for saving her own and the child's life. The

Indians are not ungrateful you know, chief, and I think we do her wrong

to suspect her motives in wanting to go."

"The Snakes are friends of my brother, and will not harm him. Let the

squaw conduct the dogs to our camp; Whirlwind knows how to die,"

returned the chief.

"They shall not hurt you while we live," said Edward. "Those who are

our friends must not offer harm to you, unless they want us their

enemies."

"Do not go, Mahnewe," said Jane. "Some harm might result from it for

which we should all repent. We shall find out in the course of

to-morrow at furthest if these are the Snakes, and if they are you can

join them when we are assured no harm can result to us from it."

Mahnewe turned her dark, liquid eyes imploringly to Howe as if to gain

his voice in her favor, but they were evidently all against it, and he

did not like to take the responsibility.

"Not to-night," said he, kindly, "but perhaps to-morrow you may go."

Sad and sorrowfully she walked away, and they saw how bitter was her

disappointment.

"Never mind, child," said Howe, "it will all be well yet. Patience and

perseverance will overcome everything. Our first business must be to

secure ourselves on the defensive. From the appearance of the Indians,

I do not think they suspect our being in this vicinity, and I propose

that our horses be secured in this thicket that skirts the bank here,

where they can feed and not be detected. We must do without a fire, and

one of us had better go cautiously to the top of the cliff yonder, and

reconnoitre."

"Whirlwind, will go. Keep watch of the squaw, or she will betray us."

So saying, the chief started on his scouting expedition.

Following the course of the brook until it curved around a sudden bend

of the cliff, he crossed it, and striking a narrow ravine overhung on

one side by shelving rock, he followed on within its shadows for over a

mile, when the ravine began to widen, the sides gradually lessen in

height, and which, a mile farther on terminated in rolling acclivities,

covered with verdure, while the ground between became a beautiful dell,

shaded with tall, stately trees, the branches of which were vocal with

a hundred bird voices, filling the air with their melody. The dell was

quite free from undergrowth, and the sun was excluded by the primitive

trees, that interlaced their branches, making the forest almost

impenetrable. The soul of the Indian was entranced, as he gazed on this

scene, so wild and silent in its beauty. It was his beau-ideal of the

Spirit-Land; and, as he gazed, he drew his hand across his eyes to see

if he, indeed, was waking. Still, there lay the landscape before him,

with the melody above. At that moment the spell was broken by a herd of

deer, leisurely crossing the dell. Drawing his bow, he was on the point

of shooting, when recollecting his errand thither, he recovered his

prudence; for, should the deer escape with an arrow sticking in it, and

be seen by the Indians, he was in search of, it would give them to

understand that others were near them.

Cautiously he proceeded across the enchanting landscape, and, after an

hour's walk, discovered an opening in the forest. "Here," thought the

chief, "I shall get a glimpse of the dogs, and if, as I think, they are

Snakes, it will go hard with me, if I don't carry off one scalp at

least," and his eyes glared with the ferocity of a tiger. He was as

much a savage still at heart as ever. Nearing the opening, he saw

before him a lake to which he approached by a smooth grassy plat, of

several rods wide, dotted here and there with mosses, ferns, and

beautiful wild flowers, with an occasional tree shorn of half its limbs

which lay scattered along the water's edge. The opposite bank skirted

the base of the hills they had seen from the encampment, rising in

peaks, barren and rocky on their summits. The water of the lake was

transparent and calm, and looked as placid as though nothing had ever

penetrated the lonely spot in which it was nestled, to mar its surface.

The chief on emerging into the open glade, saw the sky had become

flecked with clouds that were scudding across the heavens, in a

thousand fantastic waves, while just above the peak of the topmost hill

over the lake, a black cloud, heavy and portentous with a gathering

storm, was rising slowly, leaving a long streak of light unbroken cloud

against the horizon.

The chief surveyed the lake, the hills and the forest from which he had

emerged, with the surrounding scenery long and earnestly, and then

murmured to himself in a tone, that betokened a sorrowful certainty;

"It is not true, these are not the hunting grounds of the Snakes; they

have none so good and beautiful as these. We are lost! lost! in the

interminable wilds of the West, where hope or deliverance may never

come." And the stern but proud chieftain bowed his head in despair for

a moment: then stretching his hands towards the sky, which dimly shone

through the dark rolling clouds, he cried: "Father, Manito! why hast

thou left thy child to wander from his people, and cast a spell[10] over

his feet so that he cannot return?--Has he done an evil in thy sight,

that he is thus punished?--Great Spirit, Manito! thy prophet awaits thy

sign!"

[10] The Indians imagine that good and evil spirits can cast a

spell over any person they desire, and while under it, they have

no control over their own actions, but are obliged to follow the

inclination of the spirit by which the spell is cast.

As he concluded, a peal of thunder that shook the ground, burst from

the clouds above, followed by a blinding flash of lightning, which was

quickly followed by another, and another; and, as the wind came

sweeping down in angry blasts, it seemed as if every element in nature

were warring against each other. The chief stood unmoved on the spot,

his arms still raised, his lips parted but motionless, stupefied by the

storm around him. The Great Spirit he imagined had spoken to him

angrily in the storm, and superstitious as all the Indians are, it

filled his soul with horror. Large drops of rain soon began to fall,

the wind rose furiously, lashing the water on the lake into huge waves,

while wild fowls and birds darted frightened through the air. Still the

chieftain stood there. What was now the storm to him? Was not the Great

Spirit angry? and as the rain fell on his upturned face in torrents,

the lightnings descended, shivering a tree near where he stood, and

stunning him with the shock. He was prostrated, and lay on the green

sward motionless, the rain forming a pool about him, which was every

moment augmented as the torrents came down upon him.

When consciousness again returned, the sky was clear, without a single

cloud to mar its serenity. It was night, and the heavens were dotted

with a thousand gems that apparently smiled at the forlorn appearance

of the half-drowned chief as he slowly dragged himself from his

unsought bath. The lake was as placid as when he first saw it, and

there was nothing to remind him of the commotion that had raged around

him, save the shivered tree and his saturated garments and hair.

"It is the abode of the Evil Spirits," said he, "and they have lured me

hither." Starting in the direction whence he came, he saw within half a

mile, a camp-fire dimly burning as if struggling with wet fuel. Highly

elated at the discovery, as it plainly showed by their lighting a fire

that they were unaware of others being around, he crept noiselessly

towards them. Approaching within a few rods he saw they were a party of

about thirty, who were evidently on a hunt. They were not Snakes; he

was sure of that; but of what tribe they were he could not tell.

Evidently not of any tribe of which he had any knowledge, and they had

a stronger resemblance to the cannibals than to any others he had seen.

With this information he returned about midnight, much to the relief of

the rest at the camp, who had feared he had been captured, and were in

great suspense for his safety.

Chapter Fifteenth.

They endeavor to conceal themselves from the Indians. They are

discovered. A frightful encounter. Escape of Mahnewe. They pursue their

journey in the night and take a wrong direction. Discovery of a river,

over which they cross. Came to a prairie. Desolate appearance of the

country. Approach a sandy desert and conclude to cross it. They provide

themselves with ample provisions and set out over the cheerless waste.