"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.

All the next day they remained concealed in order to escape observation, and to allow the strange Indians to go far enough away so that they could proceed without being molested. Which way to journey next was a difficult question to them, but as it would be quite impossible to cross the barren, rocky hills before them, they finally determined to go down the stream until they came to the terminus of the hills that the chief had seen, and instead of crossing over as he had done to strike out into the woodland beyond the dell, and take their course on as far as it extended. Having made everything ready for an early start the next morning, they laid down to sleep. About midnight they were awakened by the blinding glare of torches, and found three hideous savages bending over them with raised tomahawks. Comprehending at once the nature of the assault, they sprang to their feet and attacked their assailants. The chief had the fortune to cleave the skull of the one nearest him at the first blow of his tomahawk, and turning, saw another who had the trapper at disadvantage, with tomahawk raised above his head, and with a dexterous blow he disabled the arm raised with the murderous weapon. In a moment he would have killed the Indian had not the screams of Jane, whom the remaining savage attempted to carry off in his arms after knocking Sidney senseless with his war-club, made him forget all else, and spring to her rescue. The trapper, who was not hurt, made a blow at his assailant, but he evaded it and tied into the forest where Howe thought it not prudent to follow, as he imagined a whole ambuscade of Indians might be in waiting to seize upon him. Hastening to the assistance of Whirlwind, he saw him closed hand to hand with the savage, their hunting-knives being their only weapons, both having dropped their tomahawks. Howe saw they were equally matched, and fearing the chief would get a bad wound, raised a club and dealt the savage a blow that felled him to the ground. The chief soon despatched him, and then they turned to Sidney and Edward. Already were they reviving, not having received any serious wounds. The copious gourds of water that Jane had sprinkled over them were all the care they needed. They now bethought themselves of Mahnewe. She was gone; not a vestige or clue remaining of her or the child.

"Betrayed!" said the chief with compressed lips and glistening eyes.

"Oh, no; she has never betrayed us!" said the trapper. "I fear there was more than three of the savages, and they have stolen her."

"It is horrible! they will kill her! Oh, uncle, cannot we pursue and overtake them?" said Jane.

"I will go and bring her scalp," said the chief. "She is a foe and has led the dogs to murder her benefactors."

"No; we shall have to leave her to her fate," said Howe. "One of the Indians has escaped to give the alarm, and perhaps within this hour or as soon as daylight, the whole tribe will be down upon us. Our only hope for our own lives is in flight. Our horses may out-travel them if they defer the attack until daylight. Fortunately for us the horses are fresh and strong."

Hastily mounting in the darkness, with no light save the faint glimmer of the stars, they plunged into the unknown wilds before them, Whirlwind leading them as a guide. But instead of taking the direction they had determined on after a long consultation the day before, they mistook the route in their haste and the darkness, and fled north-west of it; but they pursued their way in silence.

At last the welcome day broke, and halting to take a drink themselves and water their horses, they remounted, and galloped rapidly through the forest. In about two hours they came to the bank of a river, the largest they had seen in their wanderings. Entering this in order to throw their pursuers off the track, they rode up it as long as the river continued wide, but as it contracted the water became too deep to be breasted by the horses, and they crossed to the opposite bank. Here, to their great sorrow, their goat and her kid gave out, and no urging could induce them to proceed. The animals had evidently gone as far as they were capable, and with sorrow they turned them loose and left them. The goat's milk had been such an indispensable addition to their store that they felt as if parting with one of their main reliances in leaving her behind.

Still they pursued their way, avoiding the hills as much as possible until the sun was high in the heavens; when becoming weary with their hard ride, and faint for want of food, they halted in a spot where a cool spring gushed from beneath a huge boulder that looked as if it had been hurled from a rocky acclivity above to its bed. Tethering their horses where they could feed, they set a guard and began with all haste to eat such as their provision bags afforded. Cooking was out of the question, for the smoke would point out the exact spot where they were, a thing they were most desirous to hide.

They now calculated they were thirty miles from the place of their last encampment, and beyond the danger of being overtaken, provided their enemies had no horses, which they thought quite probable. However, they deemed it imprudent to rely on such a supposition; and after an hour's halt, they again moved on, pausing occasionally to refresh themselves, until towards sunset, when the ground became more even and the soil more sandy. Here they noticed the vegetation was becoming more sparse, what trees there were having a stunted and gnarled appearance; after a long search they found a spring of pure water, by which they encamped for the night, being now relieved from the fear of an attack; for, had they been ever so well mounted they could not have made a greater distance than they had, and having the advantage of a start of their pursuers they calculated on a certain escape. They were unmolested through the night; and early in the morning they again set forth. At noon where they halted the face of the country was much as it was when they set out in the morning; but, after a rapid ride in the afternoon, the vegetation entirely disappeared except the rank grass, leaving a broad prairie before them. Here they paused, resolving to rest themselves before they proceeded farther.

Alas! had they only known which way to proceed,—what direction would lead them to their home and friends, it would have been well with them. But they had pursued so many different directions they had become bewildered, and all courses seemed to them alike. The next and the next day passed over and found them undecided whether it was best to cross over the prairie or not; but the third day they concluded to do so, and refreshed and invigorated they set out. Two days of their journey they found occasional supplies of water, and on the third towards noon they came to its boundary. The forest skirting the border of the prairie was a clump of stunted trees, and there was very little grass or shrubs growing around. Everything looked forlorn and desolate about them, offering but scanty subsistence for themselves or beasts.

Following the forest down a short distance they found a tolerable camping ground where they spent the night. The next day on riding through the forest about three miles they found that it terminated, leaving a field of sand without a blade of grass or shrub growing upon it. It was nothing but sand, drear and desolate as far as the eye could reach. They were stupefied, and gazed sadly on the barren waste before them.

"This," at last said the trapper, "is the desert of which we have heard by vague rumors and traditions, but of which, until now, I never believed existed. We have undoubtedly made our way on the opposite side, and it will be necessary for us to either go across or round it in order to get home. The nearest course is across, and even when there, we shall be many hundred miles from home."

Jane could hardly repress the sob that arose as her uncle announced the dismal prospect that lay before them, and even hope almost died in her heart. For the first time she entertained the thought that there was a probability of ending their days in those unknown, unbroken regions. Whirlwind saw the emotion that was stirring her heart, for he was a keen observer, and read human nature with that accuracy peculiarly characteristic of the Indian. Placing himself by her side, he said in a mild tone—

"Why is the antelope troubled? is not her warrior by her side to make her a new home? The wilderness encircles us on every side, and the Great Spirit makes a barrier of sand that we cannot escape. It is his will that we remain; let us not attempt to leave the forest."

"Look here, chief, let Jane alone," said Sidney, angrily, as he attempted to draw her from Whirlwind.

"Sidney," said Howe, in an authoritative tone, "how long will it be before you learn prudence?"

An angry retort rose to his lips, but catching the pleading eye of the young girl fixed upon him, he remained silent and walked away.

"Come, chief, what say you, shall we strike the desert or not."

"Were I to consult my own inclination, I should say not, but return to our quarters, and prepare for winter."

"That is out of the question, chief; go home we must," spoke up Edward, with a tone of energy and decision quite new to him.

"Yes, go home! we not only must, but will," said Sidney.

"If we can get home," added Jane, sadly.

"We will do our best," said Howe, in a cheerful tone. He saw, too, that he had an arduous trial to contend with in the angry feelings Sidney entertained for the chief, which to his credit the chief never seemed to notice or resent. He knew the temper of the chieftain well, and knew him patient and forgiving, but knew him also unrelenting in his hate, when his anger was aroused. Howe's policy was to keep up a unity of feeling and purpose between every member of his little band, as he well knew a division would weaken their exertions, and cripple their efforts to extricate themselves from the trials that every day were thickening and becoming more complicated around them.

A consultation ensued, in which they came to the conclusion to cross the desert; but, as tradition said there was not a drop of water or a blade of grass to be had between the two boundaries, and that the desert was two days' journey across, they retreated to a spot where grass and water could be collected in quantities sufficient to last them the three days they would be in crossing the barren waste. Happily they were well provided with horses, having still in their possession those that had been appropriated to the use of Oudin and Mahnewe, as well as the two pack horses. Gathering large quantities of grass by cutting it up with their hunting knives, they bound it in compact bundles; then taking some skins, they sewed them up, making them tight and secure for water-bags. The morning of the third day found them ready for their perilous adventure. Each one taking a water-bag, a bundle of grass and provision on his own horse, sufficient to last them through the first day, which, together with the four horses heavily laden with provision, water and grass, they thought quite sufficient to last them, double the time they intended being on the desert.

Hope again gilded the future to the wanderers as they surveyed with satisfaction the result of their labors; and, when they turned their horses towards the sandy plain before them, their hearts were elated, and a feeling of security against its terrors made them even gay and joyous. It is well the future is always hid from view; were it not, the heart would faint and shrink from its trials when called to endure them, and instead of bravely contending with them, it would be palsied and weakened by fear.



Chapter Sixteenth.

They set out over the Desert. Encampment in the sand. An island in the sand discovered. Singular appearance of rocks. Human skeletons found in the sand. A mirage. Dreary prospects. Some of their horses give out. They arrive at an oasis. Beautiful scenery. They come to a lake. Singular geological features, They discover and explore a cavern in which they come upon mysterious implements. Gold found in abundance. The cavern supposed to have been an ancient mine. Its remarkable features.

The sky was overcast with clouds as they entered the desert, which broke and finally cleared away before the day was half spent. It had been their intention to ride as fast as their horses could travel; but they found that travelling in the sand, where, at every step the horses' hoofs sank above the fetlock, was easier talked of than performed, and to their dismay, they found themselves reduced to a walk, by the time they lost sight of the forest whence they started. A feeling of loneliness now crept involuntarily over them which deepened by finding the desert bestrewed with bones bleached in the sun, of those who had probably been lost in this barren waste, and had perished with hunger and thirst. The mid-day sun now poured its rays on their unprotected heads, causing a feeling of dizziness, while its glittering reflection from the sand almost blinded their sight. At sunset, when about to halt for the night, they caught a faint glimmer of a body rising against the horizon, brought into relief by the expiring light. "A forest!" they all shouted joyously at the sight. But, as they were now fatigued and hungry, and the object ahead, if a forest, was apparently miles away, they concluded to spend the night where they were. That night the sand was their bed, the skins they used for saddles their pillows, and the star-gemmed canopy above their only covering. At dawn they were again on their march, and as they proceeded the objects they had seen the night before faint and indistinctly, became more clearly defined, having the appearance of uneven bodies, scattered over a considerable extent of territory. In a few hours, they came to them and found, instead of a forest, a singular mass of rocks, sometimes rising in smooth perpendicular columns, some of them capped by a huge flat rock laying as regularly as if placed there by the hand of mechanical skill, and then again they were thrown down and lay scattered around as if by some violent throe of nature. Though there were vast fields of rock, not a shrub, nor any sign of vegetation could be seen. All was desolate, sand and rock. What struck them as being very singular about these rocks, was the fact that, they were divided into two distinct parts, leaving a pathway through them fifty feet wide, unincumbered by boulder or stones, and which was smooth and even. Guiding their horses through this defile, which seemed like a portal to the desert beyond, they could not refrain from the thought that the hand of man had built here a barrier, to prevent the incursion of some foe; still these rocks were so massive, rude, and in such gigantic proportions, it almost set at defiance the supposition that human agency could have placed them there. Riding further on a few miles, they came upon the skeleton of an Indian, half buried in the sand, entirely denuded of flesh, and laying as if he had calmly lain down to die. Shuddering at the spectacle, they rode on a few paces, when another, and another, met their sight, until they had counted fifteen skeletons. They had probably been a party lost in the desert, and being unable to extricate themselves had miserably perished in that dreary spot.

Surveying these a moment, and then with a glance at their own store of provisions, they urged on their horses until night, when they were obliged to halt, for their animals exhibited signs of giving out from fatigue, although no indication of the expected forest, with its supply of water and game, was in view, as they had anticipated. Nothing but a plain of sand, occasional rocky beds, and huge boulders scattered among them were seen. Well it was for them that they had taken an extra supply of provisions, or they, too, might have perished by a death more lingering and terrible than cannibals could inflict. With heavy hearts and dread forbodings when light again dawned, they once more resumed their journey, the desert retaining the same appearance it had the day before, until towards night, when, to their joy! a forest loomed against the horizon. Forgetting their fatigue, they urged their wearied beasts on, mile after mile, until darkness hid every object in its mantle of gloom. Still on they went, till the horses paused, trembling and tottering, ready to fall. They could proceed no farther. Giving them water and grass, they ate their own supper and lay down to sleep, with the expectation of being in full view of the forest when daylight should break upon them.

Worn with fatigue they slept soundly, forgetting for a few hours, the terrible anxiety that tortured them when awake, and the sun had already risen before they awoke from dreaming of beautiful forests, through which clear streams went murmuring, and where game of every description, from the huge buffalo to the tiny singing bird, abounded. Rousing themselves, their first thought was of the forest, and looking around not a vestige was to be seen, and the truth gradually dawned upon them as they gazed horror stricken in each other's bloodless faces, that they had seen a mirage, and that, instead of terminating, it betokened that the desert extended far beyond them. Seeing the panic into which they were all thrown by this discovery, Howe said in a cheerful tone—

"Come! come! this will never do: we have provision and water enough for us and the horses for to-day, and we can easily divide, and make it last two days. We are caught and must do the best we can; at least we can never free ourselves, if we stand still and bewail our fate."

"Oh, uncle! this is terrible," said Edward, gazing abstractedly around where nothing but desolation met his eye.

"We can do no better than help ourselves out of it," said Jane, encouragingly. "Be a man, Edward, and, doing your best, take your chance with the rest."

"That is a brave girl," said Howe, with a nod of approval. "Let us be courageous; the darkest hour of the night is that just before the dawn. Is it not so, chief?"

"Always," answered the chief. "I have heard our old men speak of these deserts, but they are more vast and dreary than even the report portrayed them. But if we would escape, every moment is precious, and we must haste away."

Alas! a new evil had visited them, for on going to their horses they found them lame, stiff, and hardly able to move. One refused to rise from the bed of sand, and no effort could move him. Constant travel in the desert beneath the burning sun, had done the work for him; he was useless, and to save his dying from thirst and starvation, they killed him. They did that with sorrowful hearts, well knowing if they waited to take him with them, it would be death to them, and that he could never escape from his girdle of sand, if left alive.

The other horses soon began to show sufficient activity to warrant their travelling, and again they rode on. That day they had sufficient to last them, but they could not make it hold out longer unless they put themselves on short allowance. Halting at noon, where not a ray of deliverance shone upon them any more than their first day out, they concluded to kill the three spare horses in order to save the water and grass for the rest. Selecting the three that exhibited the greatest signs of lassitude, they killed them. Confident now of holding on their course another day, they took their luggage on the horses they rode, and again set out. A copious shower of rain fell before night which was a great relief, as it refreshed their heated bodies as well as their horses, and cooled the temperature of the sand, from which they had been greatly annoyed by its scattering, and sometimes almost blinding their eyes, causing them to become inflamed and exceeding painful. That night also rain fell; but making a covering of the skins they used for saddles, they managed to get a few hours' sleep, and as it served to refresh them and the horses, and knowing that rain in the desert is of rare occurrence, they felt as if it was truly providential. They also found their horses in the morning in better condition than they had expected, and with a faint hope that they might reach a forest that day, they set out expecting that, in all probability, they were near land well moistened, and the showers they had received had been only the extension of a larger one that had passed over a tract of country supplying moisture for plenteous evaporation. This they knew the desert could never do, and it caused their spirits to elate with hope. In a few hours more a small speck was seen circling in the air. "A bird! a bird!" cried the chief, pointing at the object. Howe's quick eye caught the sight of it, when it disappeared, and was lost in the distance.

"Thank Heaven," cried Jane, fervently; "we shall be saved at last!" and tears of joy filled eyes that trials could not dim.

"Yes, we are near a forest," said the chief; "the dark hour is passing; may the day in its brightness repay us for its darkness."

"Amen to that!" said Sidney; "and may the day bring no evil worse than the night."

"What can be worse," indignantly asked Edward, "than the terrible days we have spent on these burning sands."

"Do not repine, Edward," said Jane, gently "Those bleaching bones we passed indicate that others have fared worse than we have', for we still live."

"They were nothing but Indians, and they get used to such things," said Sidney.

"Does the young brave think the Indians cannot feel?" asked the chief, reproachfully. "He will not repine at his lot, because red blood flows in his veins, and he scorns to be a coward. Those that wail most feel the least; they throw their griefs to the winds; but the Indian is too proud to be pitied, and hides the grief in his heart, singing his war-song to cover its workings."

"You make heroes of your people, chief," said Sidney, touched by the deep tone of feeling with which these words were uttered.

"We are warriors and braves," returned the chief.

About noon the waving tops of trees became visible, strangely intermixed with bold outlines which they found on a nearer approach to be rocks. This time the trees proved to be real; and as they approached, the forest grew more clearly defined, and towards night to their inexpressible joy, they came to patches on which were found sparse and stunted vegetation. Halting, they used their last water for themselves and horses, consumed their last provisions, and lay down to rest, until daylight should enable them to explore the place around them. Alas! when the rising sun lit up the scenery around them, they saw that they had not gained the main land, but had come to an oasis of about three miles in circumference, much of which was quite barren, and the rest covered with coarse grass, large beds of slate rock, with here and there a huge boulder, and the whole intermixed with scattered trees that looked as if they had struggled hard to maintain existence. The whole tribe of cactae was here represented, stretching its long snake-like arms over the rocky place, giving it a peculiarly ugly appearance. Fortunately, a few shrubs grew scattered over the oasis, on which their horses might feed, and turning them loose to glean where they could find anything, being well assured they would not of their own accord, enter the desert, they dispersed in search of water and something to satisfy their own hunger. For, having been on short allowance the day before, they did not relish the idea of fasting any length of time.

Edward and Jane took a course to the right, while the rest separately took courses in different directions, with the understanding that they were to communicate with each other by hallooing, if they found either water, roots, or game. The children's course at first was over a pebbly bed, which terminated in a disjointed mass of sandstone, which towered up to a considerable height, and was one of the objects that had attracted their attention from the desert. Ascending to the top of this with much difficulty, a vision of loveliness met their sight—a vision which gladdened the hearts of the half famished children. A vale lay before them shaded by luxuriant foliage, and covered with a green sward, in the centre of which, a lake spreading over about three acres of ground slept in tranquil beauty, its waters dotted with numerous water fowl of brilliant plumage.

They stood for some time silently contemplating the scene before them; their hearts were too full for words, and a feeling of gratefulness that they had been led thither, made them forget for the time all they had suffered.

"Shout, Edward, and call them to us," said Jane, as the trance-like feeling that first seized her, wore away.

The hallo of Edward rung out on the clear air, answered the next moment by another, and then another, until all had been apprized of their discovery. Guided by Edward's voice, they all arrived on the ledge of rocks in half an hour, and as they, in turn, looked down on the scene below, they were almost overcome with joy, at the sight of the deliverance at hand. They soon descended the rocky ledge, which they found exceedingly hazardous, as the pebbles gave way under their feet, often precipitating them on the sharp stones below. They heeded not their difficulties, for the vale lay invitingly before them, and with their eyes on that, they finally reached the bottom in safety, and entered the welcome shade. They found the soil was rich and productive, teeming with vegetation, and the woods filled with fowl. No signs of other game were around, but they saw the lake was filled with fine fish, which were so tame that they swam close to the water's edge.

"Build a fire; we all want breakfast," cried the chief, exultingly, as, with stick in hand, he waded out a few feet, striking right and left among the finny tribes. In a few minutes a number of large fish, stunned by the blows, turned over on their sides, and floated on the surface, when they were caught up by the chief, and thrown on the shore. A plentiful repast was soon ready, and having satisfied their hunger, they turned their thoughts to their future.

"We will encamp here," said the trapper, "until we shall have recruited ourselves and horses. Our luggage, though it is so scanty, is of incalculable value to us, and must be brought thither also."

"How the poor horses will relish this tender grass and cool water?" said Jane.

"I am going for them," said the chief. "Let one of the young braves go with me, and all may be brought at once." Sidney and the chief set out on their way, following the base of the ledge of rocks in order to get around it, when they met the horses making their way towards them at a rapid gait. The instinct of the wild prairie horse had caused them to scent the water, for which they were making by the nearest route. Poor things! they were worn almost to skeletons, lamed and crippled, and were pitiable sights to look upon.

Building themselves a hut to shield them from rain and dew, they made preparations to remain a number of days before they again ventured on the dreary desert. They supposed by the large quantities of fowl, that they were at no great distance from main land; but as this was mere conjecture, they dared not rely upon it. Past experience, dearly purchased, warned them to presume on nothing, and that their own boasted woodcraft was of little avail, under difficulties like those in which they were now placed.

For the three first days of their sojourn at that place they were so fatigued and debilitated that they were content to keep quiet by the lake, the delightful repose which they enjoyed so intensely, after the harassing terrors of the desert, strengthened the spirits of the wanderers as well as their bodies.

The fifth and sixth days they began to explore farther around the place, and the seventh they had become quite strengthened, so magically had the pure water and an abundance of fish and fowl, together with the numerous roots which they found, acted upon them. They found this lake had no streams entering or running from it, and that no motion stirred its placid bosom save a singular circular one that never changed from the slow monotony of its course.

In one of their rambles they had noticed a singular opening in the rocks that formed the ridge; but something else attracting their attention at the moment, they had passed it by without a close inspection of it. A week afterwards they chanced to be in its vicinity, and they at once resolved to explore the cavern, for such the opening they had no doubt would lead them to. Providing themselves with torches, they ventured in, the chief leading the way. The opening was about eight feet high and three broad, resembling a doorway; and holding their torches close to the edge they found it had been actually cut, as distinct traces of where the rock had been broken off were still visible. Passing over the rubbish that had accumulated at the mouth, they came to a solid rocky floor quite smooth as if worn so by constant friction. For about fifty feet the passage had a uniform appearance, the sides and roof looking as if recently cut by a mason's hand. The passage suddenly terminated, and they found themselves in a place about six feet wide, and running parallel to the ledge. How long it was they could not see, as it extended in two directions. Taking the one leading to the right they had gone but a few feet when a peculiar glittering in the opposite side of the cave arrested their attention, which on close inspection they pronounced to be particles of gold mixed with the rock. They found, as they proceeded, that they were ascending gradually, and that the passage was of a uniform height; and, as the particles of gold were plainly visible imbedded in the rock, they came to the conclusion that they had come to an ancient gold mine, and the tunnel had indeed been cut by human skill.

They soon came to the terminus of this part, and when they returned they resolved to explore the cavern at the left, being very anxious to do so. The chief, however, dissented, for he had been troubled from the moment they had discovered the particles of gold. At first he peremptorily refused to go with them until he found they were resolved to go even if he remained behind. Then yielding a reluctant consent he took his torch and led the way. This passage was precisely similar to the other, with the exception that it descended gradually while the other ascended. Here too the particles of gold were discovered glittering in the rock that formed one of the sides of the passage; and, as none of the precious ore was visible on the roof or other side, they supposed a vein had run through the rock in a dip formed by an upheaval of the rock, and which having been discovered by some unknown persons, the ledge had been tunneled and the ore taken from its hidden bed.

Following the tunnel a short distance, they came to a single step, about two feet high, which descending, they found others at regular intervals of about ten feet apart, until they had counted fifty of them. The sides along which the vein ran bore indications of having yielded vast quantities of ore, with still enough to repay the labor of crushing the quartz in which it was imbedded, and extracting the gold. The steps now terminated, and the passage branched in two directions at right angles with each other. In one of the branches they found the continuation of the vein of precious ore, and followed it up. Instead of its descending, they found it perfectly level, the passage having the same width and height as at its mouth for a considerable distance, when it suddenly opened into a large room, which they found, by pacing it, to be three hundred feet long, and two hundred and twenty wide, in the longest and widest parts. Its shape was very singular, jutting out here and there, and as the glare of the torches lighted up the gloom, millions of particles from every crevice and jutting point of its rugged sides, reflected back their light in flashing rays.

"The abode of evil spirits!" cried the chief, in great alarm, with more agitation perhaps than he would have exhibited before a shower of darts aimed at him, or than at the stake of an enemy. "Fly!" he continued, "before it is too late! The anger of the Evil Spirit is fearful, when aroused; fly! fly! and save yourselves," and, with a vice-like grasp, he caught up Jane and bounded up the passage. Howe saw the movement, but the chief had been so quick, that he had made half the distance of the passage before he could overtake, and get ahead of him so as to block up the passage.

"Put her down!" thundered the indignant trapper, with menacing gestures to the chief.

Sitting her on her feet, he glanced first at the trapper who stood before him with compressed lips and flashing eyes, then at the terrified girl, from her around the cavern, as if he expected a demon to pounce upon them at every moment.

"Chief! this is hardly what I should have expected from you!" said the trapper, angrily.

The chief seemed stupefied, and stood gazing around him like one suddenly demented.

"No violence shall be offered to Jane, while I live," continued the trapper. "I am her guardian here."

"And after you, I, and her brother," said Sidney, defiantly.

"Don't be too hard on the chief," spoke up Edward. "He intended no wrong, and, judging from his actions, I take it, he thought he was doing her a great kindness by securing her from some imagined danger. What say you, Jane? is the chief culpable or not?"

"He was frightened, I presume," returned the young girl, evasively.

"I am not a coward; yet, who is there that dare contend with invisible spirits?" said the chief, in an humble tone. "This is an evil place, and the evil spirits that have their abode here, have stirred up strife among us already! Come, let us hurry away, else we shed each others' blood!"

"Take my hand, chief, and forgive my anger," said the trapper, kindly. "I was wrong to deal so harshly with prejudices taught at your mother's knee, and which are inherent with your very nature."

"That is right, uncle," said Edward. "Jane and I have long been under the impression that it is no way to eradicate prejudice by becoming angry with it. This," he added, addressing Sidney, "is quite as much for your benefit as any one's."

"There, the evil spirit is at work again!" said Jane, as a cutting retort fell from Sidney. "Come," she added, "I have not seen half enough of that wonderful room; let us return and give it a thorough exploration."

"No, no," said the chief, in alarm, "do not go, we have seen too much already."

"I shall go, and so shall Jane," said Sidney, decidedly, "you can return any moment you like; but your heathen prejudices shall never mar our pleasure."

"Oh, yes, chief," said Edward, kindly, "we must explore the cavern. If bad spirits preside there, they will not harm us; you need not go; we shall think none the less of you for returning."

"We are desirous to give this cave a thorough exploration, and while doing this, you get us some ducks for dinner," said the trapper. "We do not desire you to accompany us since you have such a great repugnance for doing so."

"Does the white chief think his brother is a coward, that he asks him to desert him in the hour of danger? If you go and rouse their anger, I go also to share your fate; though that be death!" So saying, the chief caught up some broken rocks with which the floor was scattered in one hand, and drawing his hunting knife in the other, cried out in a tone of desperation, "lead on; I am prepared for them!"

This last act of the chief of arming with missile and knife to fight invisible spirits was too much for Edward's risibility, and the consequence was a shout of laughter in which they all joined save the chief. The merry, mocking tones reverberated through the cavern, swelling and gathering strength from a thousand echoes that threw back the sound until it seemed as if a legion of demons were mocking them from every crevice and niche of the passage. They were silent for the moment, and glanced around them in terror. The superstition of the savage had not been without its influence, although reason refused to acknowledge it.

"You are not frightened at an echo, are you? why I believe you are all cowards, scared out of your wits at your shadows!" said Howe, in a subdued voice; for, in truth, he did not care himself to awaken the echoes needlessly.

Entering the room they had left so unceremoniously, they found the vein of ore had probably once covered the whole area and had been about seven feet thick, as the vein of pure ore commencing about two feet from the bottom of the cavern extended that height and then it was mixed with quartz rock three feet further up. The whole cavern was about eighteen feet high, and had the appearance of being entirely artificial. The children could not repress a cry of astonishment as they comprehended the vastness of the hidden treasures before them—a treasure sufficient to enrich kingdoms. It might, for aught they knew, cover miles in extent around of the same thickness; certainly what was visible was unparalleled for purity and extent by any that had ever been discovered. Heaps of quartz rock, in which particles of gold glittered, strewed the bottom of the cavern as if they had been blocked out and cast aside in digging the purer metal. Among these were found a number of chisels made of a metal which, by reason of its being so corroded, they could not make out. Mallets of stone were also found, looking as if but lately used. These instruments had cheated time of its prey, and lay there in their pristine distinctness a link binding the past with the future. They also found an instrument which was something like our pick-axe, and had evidently been used in dislodging the treasure from its bed.

"The relics of the lost people whom the Great Spirit destroyed in his anger!" said the chief.

"Rather say, the treasure-house where the natives obtained their treasure before our people came to this continent, and for which misguided Europeans put thousands to death for not revealing the locality where the golden deposit lay!" said Howe.

While carelessly tumbling over the masses of rock that lay scattered over the floor, they came to a circular helmet of copper, similar to the one they had previously found; and by its side a javelin resembling that found sticking in the petrified body in the cavern through which they escaped from the cannibals. Stimulated by these discoveries they began to search with earnestness and were soon rewarded by the discovery of a quantity of bones, some of them still quite perfect, sufficiently so for them to ascertain that they were those of a man, and that he had been of extraordinary size. Pushing their exertions farther on they came across a massive urn of pure gold bearing the appearance of having been cut out of a solid lump. The brim was elaborately wrought, as were also the handles and the three feet on which it rested, leaving a space running through the middle perfectly plain with the exception of several beautifully carved hieroglyphics that were placed with great regularity and precision around the centre. The trapper took the urn in his hands, and after clearing it from dust and mould held it close to the torches and examined the hieroglyphics long and minutely and laying it down, said—

"Could we tell the meaning of these characters we should have more light to illuminate the gloom that enshrouds the history of a nation that once held this continent and enriched their coffers from this cavern. This urn has been the work of the ancestors of the old man of Lake Superior. The characters on it are identical with those he showed me, and may the day be not far distant when we may be enabled to read these records of the past."

"How beautiful!" they all remarked, as this discovery came to light, with the exception of the chief, who sullenly stood apart regarding the discoverers with unmistakable disapproval.

"This must be ours," said Sidney; "if we should ever find our way home it would be a great curiosity sufficient to repay us for some of the suffering we have endured."

"Oh, yes; this is too beautiful to leave here any longer," said Jane. "We can wrap it in grass and furs and carry it on the horses very well."

"I agree with you in this," said Howe, "and think it would be a sacrifice of the beautiful to leave such a mark of civilization in this lonely spot."

"My brother forgets himself, as he will sacrifice the lives of the children of the great Medicine for a paltry love of a glittering bauble," said the chief, sadly.

"We must have our way this once, chief," said Howe, good humoredly, "but promise you faithfully whatever else we may find may remain."

"That you may safely promise, for nothing more rich and beautiful could be found," said Jane.

"Unless we find another chair of state set with star stones, as the chief calls them, but which I believe are veritable diamonds," said Sidney.

On further examination numerous pieces of pottery were found, and also more bones, javelins and helmets, but nothing different from what they had seen. Leaving this vast treasure-house, they retraced their steps to the place where the other avenue branched off, and there depositing their treasures, prepared to explore this part of the cavern. This passage they found grew wider as they advanced about a hundred feet, when it enlarged into a lofty, spacious room remarkable for nothing except being of an extraordinary size, and faintly lighted by an opening in the top which permitted a few rays of light to penetrate and soften the gloom below. This part of the cavern was evidently a natural freak of nature, for they found no traces of hewn rock or precious ore. From the opposite side of the cavern they found a low opening which, on entering, they gradually descended winding round in a curve, the passage enlarging a little until two could pass abreast without stooping. Following this a distance of nearly two hundred feet they were astonished to hear the roar of water which sounded like the breaking of surf against rocks. The sound grew louder and louder as they advanced, until its roar filled the cavern with stunning echoes reverberating along its hidden passages. The cavern now became more lofty and wider, the sides more rugged, and at last it terminated on the brink of a stream which boiled and lashed its rock-girt sides with its troubled waters. To attempt to penetrate further would have been dangerous, and they retraced their steps. They concluded that they had found a connexion with the lake above, which was some reward for exploring that part of the cavern.



Chapter Seventeenth.

Recovery, and continuation of their journey. A joyous prospect. They discover a Lake. It changes to gloom. Discovered and followed by Indians. They finally escape, though compelled to leave their baggage, &c.. They wander on, unconscious of their way. Discover a beautiful valley, by which they encamp and rest themselves. Their journey continued. They meet with friendly Indians, who offer them their hospitality. The Indians give them cheering intelligence. They rest with them a few days.

Six weeks had now elapsed, and they, with their horses, were fairly recovered from the wearying effects of their journey over the desert, and they were ready to launch once more on the unknown barren waste before them. Large quantities of fish and fowl had been provided—some by smoking, and others by drying—which, together with the fresh and dried fruits and vegetables they had secured, they calculated would last them five or six days. There were no animals of any kind, consequently they had not such facilities for preparation of dried meats as before; and being without any salt, it was both inconvenient and difficult for them to preserve their provisions. Loading their horses with what they had prepared, and with a supply of water and grass, they set out on foot, for it would be impossible for the beasts to carry them and the baggage, and they would be obliged to travel on foot for two days at least, until the provisions were consumed sufficiently to relieve the beasts of part of the weight. It was now mid-summer: they knew that by the intense heat that poured its scorching rays upon them so that they were obliged to halt before noon, and entrench themselves behind a mass of rock they found, to protect themselves from its burning rays. When the greatest heat of the day was over, they again set out, and after an hour's travel, came in sight of a dense forest, which they reached long before the sun had set. They now laughed heartily at the idea of their sojourn on the oasis so long, preparing with so much pains and anxiety for so short a journey. Whithersoever they went they found the forest increasing in fertility, and they knew by the extent of it this time, they had reached the main land, and had really crossed an immense desert.

They were not all joyous feelings that agitated them that night; for on every hand they saw traces of Indians, and should they prove to be unknown, hostile tribes, they feared sad consequences. The night passed, however, quietly enough; and when morning broke, they set out, taking the precaution to move cautiously along, and though they often came upon places where Indians had encamped to cook their meals, and sometimes found the brands of fires still smoking, they had the good fortune to travel three days without falling in with them. On the fourth day, about noon, as they were turning the bend of a stream that wound round a hill, they were suddenly confronted by a party of five fierce looking savages, entirely naked, who seemed to be as much surprised at the meeting as they were, for they stopped, glanced wildly around them a moment, and then precipitately fled.

"Well, chief," said the trapper, "how do you like the looks of these customers?"

"They are a people I know nothing of, and this is the first time they have ever seen a pale face."

"I fear we have not mended matters by crossing the desert," said Jane, sadly. "The sight of Indians does not speak well for our speedy return to the land of civilization."

"Let not the antelope be fearful. Strong hearts and hands are still around her," said the chief.

"Which can avail but little against the hordes of savages that infest these wilds," remarked Jane.

"What is that Jane? You were lecturing me awhile ago, about doing our best,—courage, &c.—and leaving the rest for time to unravel," said Edward, cheerily.

"I am glad you reminded me of it," said Jane, "for the old feeling of despair was fast creeping into my heart."

"I do not see anything to fear," remarked Sidney, "evidently the savages are afraid of us, and if they are not, so long as they run away from us, we are surely safe enough."

"You do not know the treachery of the Indians who apparently infest these regions," said Jane. "Perhaps they are cannibals, and it would then be terrible to fall into their hands."

"The Indians are not naturally treacherous; but the wrongs they have endured have perverted their nature, and they meet treachery by the treachery they have learned while smarting under it," said the trapper.

"The white chief speaks like one of us," said Whirlwind, proudly. "We have endured wrong and suffering, and been submissive; but, at last, goaded to resistance, our lands were drenched with the blood of our wives and children, because our warriors dared to strike a blow for freedom. All this we have suffered, and must finally suffer extinction, while the pale faces will thrive on the soil enriched by our blood, and to future ages hold us up as a nation notorious for all the vices and crimes ever known, even that of drunkenness, which the Indian never knew until the white man came to our then peaceful shores."

"You are not all treacherous, even now," said the trapper, "and whether the tribe is to which these belong is for the future to determine. One thing is certain, we must keep out of their hands if possible, and to do this, we had better ride on as fast as we can, and place as great a distance between us and them as we can before dark; for, if they interfere with us, it will be undertaken after we are encamped for the night."

Much to their relief, they were not molested, although they were kept in constant excitement by seeing the Indians hanging on their trail, keeping at a proper distance from them, halting when they halted, and travelling when they travelled. This continued for several days, and then the Indians entirely disappeared, greatly to the relief of our wanderers.

For the last few days they had been travelling first in one direction and then in another—alas! they knew not whither, perfectly bewildered. They seemed to be disheartened in pursuing a regular course, and went where their judgments dictated for the hour, perhaps retracing their steps the next. One afternoon they came to a high, rolling part of the forest, which terminated at the foot of a range of hills rearing their heads in mural peaks, and on ascending them, they found that they overlooked a beautiful plain below, in the centre of which a vast lake stretched away over many miles, and lay nestled in that wilderness like a gem in a setting of emerald. This lake was studded with numerous islands which were heavily timbered, and formed a beautiful scene. Taking a circuitous route so as to reach the lake in safety, they encamped on its banks as the last rays of the setting sun were reflected in golden gushes from its placid bosom and nestling isles. As they gazed on the enchanting scene before them, it seemed as if nature had reserved all her beauties for this chosen spot, denying to the vast desert they had traversed fertility enough to make it inhabitable.

On the opposite side of the lake arose precipitous ridges, varying in height from five hundred to a thousand feet, covered with the balsam-pine, whose dark stately green, formed a magnificent contrast with the graceful foliage of the aspen, which bordered the lake. A curious phenomenon here attracted their attention. Beneath the transparent waters of the lake were distinctly visible, trees of enormous proportions, standing erect, with the leaves and branches entire, looking as though they had grown there, or been sunken in their watery bed. Making themselves a raft of dry wood, they explored every part of the lake, and found beneath them in the water the same forest-like appearance, and they concluded that the lake had once been unobstructed, and that there had been an immense land-slide which had precipitated itself from the ridge over which they had entered the valley into the lake; part of the wood drifting on the surface, had formed itself into the little isles, while the rest had become submerged, and still rested at a great depth beneath the waters that closed placidly over its topmost branches.

Innumerable fowl filled the branches of the trees in these isles, while countless numbers of them were sporting in the water, undisturbed by the intrusion of our wanderers. Evidently they had never seen man before, and had yet to learn he would prey on their numbers to sustain life. Here they also found the salmon trout, grown to great size, so large that one was enough for a supper for the whole party. There were also great quantities of tender grass which, growing undisturbed in a constant shade, was as tender, and which the horses cropped with as much avidity, as the grasses of early spring, although now the mid-summer, with scorching sun, was upon them.

Not a trace of a native was visible, and the whole valley, nestled among the high ridges on every side, had probably never before echoed to the voice of civilized man, or the soil pressed by his foot, for ages on ages—at least, by any race now known. Perhaps, too, thousands of years ago a race knew of its existence, when the world was young, if that time ever was. For the world is always young to the young, but when old age comes on, it becomes hoary to his heart also. The heart of every man is his world. When it is young, joyous, and happy, the world is seen through the emotions that hold his soul in rosy meshes, and it is thus tinged to his sight with youth, love, hope, and a joy that fills the heart with a fulness and ecstasy of happiness that leaves nothing further to be desired. Let the rosy meshes fall, and hoary age, or the long list of hours of a misspent life, hold up another scene, in which despair contends with the waning hours, and sombre clouds obscure the future! Then the world is always old, always sad, hard, and cold; and man learns too late that the beauty and gracefulness of age can be only with the heart that is still young, though it has seen long years—and that, to enjoy life to the latest hour, the heart must still be kept green.