"I believe you are right, Malachi."

"I hope to circumvent him yet, sir," replied Malachi; "but we shall see."

"Well; but Malachi, are we to let this be known to anybody, or keep it a secret?"

"Well, sir, I've thought of that; we must only let Martin and the Strawberry into the secret; and I would tell them, because they are almost Indians, as it were; they may have someone coming to them, and there's no fear of their telling. Martin knows better, and as for the Strawberry, she is as safe as if she didn't know it."

"I believe you are right; and still what delight it would give my father and mother!"

"Yes, sir, and all the family too, I have no doubt, for the first hour or two after you have told them; but what pain it would give them for months afterwards! 'Hope deferred maketh the heart sick,' as my father used to read out of the Bible, and that's the truth, sir. Only consider how your father, and particularly your mother, would fret and pine during the whole time, and what a state of anxiety they would be in! they would not eat or sleep. No, no, sir, it would be a cruelty to tell them, and it must not be. Nothing can be done till the spring at all events, and we must wait till the messenger comes to us."

"You are right, Malachi; then do as you say, make the communication to Martin and his wife, and I will keep the secret as faithfully as they will."

"It's a great point our knowing whereabouts the boy is," observed Malachi, "for if it is necessary to make a party to go for him, we know what direction to go in. And it is also a great point to know the strength of the enemy, as now we shall know what force we must take with us in case it is necessary to recover the lad by force or stratagem. All this we gained from the letter, and shall not learn from any messenger sent to us by the Angry Snake, whose head I hope to bruise before I've done with him."

"If I meet him, one of us shall fall," observed Alfred.

"No doubt, sir, no doubt," replied Malachi; "but if we can retake the boy by other means, so much the better. A man, bad or good, has but one life, and God gave it to him. It is not for his fellow-creature to take it away unless from necessity. I hope to have the boy without shedding of blood."

"I am willing to have him back upon any terms, Malachi; and, as you say, if we can do it without shedding of blood, all the better; but have him I will, if I have to kill a hundred Indians."

"That's right, sir, that's right, only let it be the last resort; recollect that the Indian seeks the powder and ball, not the life of the boy; and recollect that if we had not been so careless as to tempt him with the sight of what he values so much, he would never have annoyed us thus."

"That is true; well then, Malachi, it shall be as you propose in everything."

The conversation was here finished; Alfred and all those who were possessed of the secret never allowed the slightest hint to drop of their knowledge. The winter passed away without interruption of any kind. Before the snow had disappeared the seed was all prepared ready for sowing; the planks had been sawed out, and all the wheat not required for seed had been ground down and put into flower barrels, ready for any further demand from the fort. And thus terminated the third winter in Canada.



CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

TAPPING THE MAPLE-TREES.

It was now April, and for some days Malachi and John had been very busy, assisted by the Strawberry; for the time had come for tapping the maple-trees, to make the maple-sugar, and Mrs Campbell had expressed a wish that she could be so supplied with an article of such general consumption, and which they could not obtain but by the bateaux which went to Montreal. In the evening, when Malachi and John were, as usual, employed in cutting small trays out of the soft wood of the balsam-fir, and of which they had already prepared a large quantity, Mrs Campbell asked Malachi how the sugar was procured.

"Very easily, ma'am; we tap the trees."

"Yes, so you said before; but how do you do it? Explain the whole affair to me."

"Why, ma'am, we pick out the maple-trees which are about a foot wide at the bottom of the trunk, as they yield most sugar. We then bore a hole in the trunk of the tree, about two feet above the ground, and into that hole we put a hollow reed, just the same as you would put a spigot in a cask. The liquor runs out into one of these trays that we have been digging out."

"Well, and then what do you do?"

"We collect all the liquor every morning till we have enough to fill the coppers, and then we boil it down."

"What coppers will you use, then?"

"There are two large coppers in the store-room, not yet put up, which will answer our purpose very well, ma'am. They hold about a hogshead each. We shall take them into the woods with us, and pour the liquor into them, and boil them down as soon as they are ready. You must come and see us on the boiling-day, and we can have a frolic in the woods."

"With all my heart," replied Mrs Campbell. "How much liquor do you get from one tree?"

"A matter of two or three gallons," replied Malachi; "sometimes more and sometimes less. After we have tapped the trees and set our trays, we shall have nothing more to do for a fortnight. The Strawberry can attend to them all, and will let us know when she is ready."

"Do you tap the trees every year?"

"Yes, ma'am, and a good tree will bear it for fifteen or twenty years; but it kills them at last."

"So I should suppose, for you take away so much of the sap of the tree."

"Exactly, ma'am; but there's no want of sugar-maples in these woods."

"You promised us some honey, Malachi," said Emma, "but we have not seen it yet. Can you get us some?"

"We had no time to get it last autumn, miss, but we will try this autumn what we can do. When John and I are out in the woods, we shall very probably find a honey-tree, without going very far. I did intend to have looked out for some, if you had not mentioned it."

"I know one," said Martin; "I marked it a fortnight ago, but I quite forgot all about it. Since the mill has been in hand, I have had little time for anything else. The fact is, we have all plenty to do just now."

"That we certainly have," replied Henry, laughing; "I wish I could see the end of my work in the barn; I doubt if I shall be able to get out with my rifle this winter."

"No, sir, you must leave the woods to John and me," replied Malachi. "Never mind, you shan't want for venison. Do you require the sledge to-morrow, Mr Alfred?"

Malachi referred to a small sledge which they had made in the winter, and which was now very useful, as they could, with one horse, transport things from place to place. It was used by Alfred for bringing down to the store-house the sacks of flour as fast as they were ground in the mill.

"I can do without it for a day. What do you want it for?"

"To bring all the honey home," said Emma, laughing.

"No, miss, to take the coppers out into the woods," replied Malachi, "that they may be ready for the liquor. As soon as we have tapped the trees we will look for the honey."

"Did you send your skins down to Montreal by the bateaux?" inquired Mr Campbell.

"Yes, father," replied Alfred; "Mr Emmerson took charge of them, and promised to deliver them to the agent; but we have not so many this year as we had last. John has the largest package of all of us."

"Yes, he beats me this year," said Malachi; "he always contrives to get the first shot. I knew that I should make a hunter of the boy. He might go out by himself now, and do just as well as I do."

The next morning Malachi went out into the woods, taking with him the coppers and all the trays on the sledge; during that day he was busy boring the trees and fitting the reed-pipes to the holes. Strawberry and John accompanied him, and by sunset their work was complete.

The next morning, when they went out, only Malachi and John took their axes with them, for John could use his very well for so young a lad. They first went to the tree which Martin had discovered; he had given a description where to find it. They cut it down, but did not attempt to take the honey till the night, when they lighted a fire, and drove away the bees by throwing leaves on it, and making a great smoke; they then opened the tree, and gained about two pails full of honey, which they brought in just as the family were about to go to bed. When they went out the next morning they found a bear very busy at the remains of the comb, but the animal made off before they could get a shot at him.

Every morning the Strawberry collected all the sap which had run out of the trees, and poured it into the coppers which had been fixed up by Malachi, ready for a fire to be lighted under them. They continued their search and found three more hives of bees, which they marked and allowed to remain till later in the season, when they could take them at their leisure. In a fortnight they had collected sufficient liquor from the trees to fill both the coppers to the brim, besides several pails. The fires were therefore lighted under the coppers, and due notice given to Mrs Campbell and the girls that the next day they must go out into the woods and see the operation, as the liquor would, towards the afternoon, be turned into the coolers, which were some of the large washing-tubs then in use, and which had been thoroughly cleansed for the purpose.

As this was to be a holiday in the woods, they prepared a cold dinner in a large basket, and gave it in charge of Henry. Mr Campbell joined the party, and they all set off to the spot, which was about two miles distant. On their arrival, they examined the trees and the trays into which the juice first ran, the boilers in which the liquor was now simmering over the fire, and asked questions of Malachi, so that they might, if necessary, be able to make the sugar themselves; after which the first cooler was filled with the boiling liquor, that they might see how the sugar crystallised as the liquor became cold. They then sat down under a large tree and dined. The tree was at some distance from the boilers, as there was no shade in the open spot where Malachi had placed them, and the afternoon was passed very agreeably in listening to Malachi's and Martin's stories of their adventures in the woods. While they were still at dinner, Oscar and the other dogs which had accompanied them, had strayed to about a hundred yards distant, and were soon very busy scraping and barking at a large hole.

"What are the dogs after?" said Alfred.

"Just what the Strawberry wants, and told me to get for her," replied Malachi; "we will dig him out to-morrow."

"What is it, Strawberry?" said Mary.

The Strawberry pointed to her mocassins, and then put her finger on the porcupine-quills with which they were embroidered.

"I don't know the English name," said she, softly.

"A porcupine you mean," said Mary; "the animal those quills come from."

"Yes," replied the Strawberry.

"Is there a porcupine there, Malachi?" said Mrs Campbell.

"Yes, ma'am, that is certain; the dogs know that well enough, or they would not make such a noise. If you like, we will go for the shovels and dig him out."

"Do, pray; I should like to see him caught," said Emma; "it shall be our evening's amusement."

Martin got up, and went for the shovels; during his absence, the dinner was cleared away, and the articles replaced in the basket; they then all adjourned to where the dogs were still barking and scratching.

It was more than an hour before they could dig out the animal, and when, at last, it burst away from the hole, they could not help laughing as they witnessed the way in which one or two of the dogs were pricked with the quills of the animal, who needed no other defence; the dogs ran back, pawed their noses, and then went on again. Oscar was too knowing to attack it in that way; he attempted to turn it over, so that he might get at its stomach, when he would soon have killed it, but Martin dispatched the poor beast with a blow on the nose, and the dogs then rushed in upon it. They amused themselves selecting all the best of the quills for the Strawberry, and then they went back again to the coolers, to see the sugar which had been made.

As they neared the spot, Emma cried out, "There is a bear at the cooler; look at him."

Malachi and John had their rifles ready immediately. Mrs Campbell and Mary were much alarmed, as the animal was not one hundred yards from them.

"Do not be afraid, ma'am," said Malachi; "the animal is only after the sugar. He likes sugar just as well as honey."

"I don't doubt but he's the same beast that you saw at the honeycomb the other day," said Martin. "Let us stay where we are, and watch him. We may lose a few pounds of sugar, but I expect he will make you laugh."

"I really see nothing laughable in such a terrific brute," said Mrs Campbell.

"You are quite safe, ma'am," said Martin, "Malachi and Mr John have both their rifles."

"Well, then, I will trust to them," said Mrs Campbell; "but I should prefer being at home, nevertheless. What a great brute it is."

"Yes, ma'am; it is a very large animal, that's certain; but they are not very fat at this time of the year. See how he's smelling at the liquor, now he's licking the top of it with his tongue: He won't be satisfied with that, now that he has once tasted it. I told you so."

The eyes of the whole party, some frightened and some not, were now fixed upon the bear, who, approving of what he had tasted as a sample, now proceeded to help himself more liberally.

He therefore placed his paw down into the contents of the cooler, but, although the surface of the liquor was cool, the lower part was still scalding hot, and he had not put his paw in for a moment, when he withdrew it with a loud roar, rearing up and sitting upon his hind legs, and throwing his burnt paw in the air.

"I said so," observed Malachi, chuckling; "he has found it hotter than he expected."

John, Alfred, and Martin burst out laughing at the sight; and even Mrs Campbell and the two girls could not help being amused.

"He'll try it again," said Martin.

"Yes, that he will," replied Malachi. "John, be all ready with your rifle, for the brute has seen us."

"Why, he won't come this way, will he?" exclaimed Mrs Campbell.

"Yes, ma'am, that he most likely will when he is angry; but you need not fear."

"But I'm afraid, Malachi," said Mary.

"Then perhaps you had better go about fifty yards back with Mr Campbell, where you will see the whole without danger. There he goes to it again; I knew he would."

Martin, who had got all the dogs collected together and fast by a piece of deer's-hide, as soon as they had discovered the bear, went back with Mr and Mrs Campbell and the girls.

"You need have no fear, ma'am," said Martin; "the rifles won't miss their mark, and, if they did, I have the dogs to let loose upon him; and I think Oscar, with the help of the others, would master him. Down— silence, Oscar—down, dogs, down. Look at the Strawberry, ma'am, she's not afraid, she's laughing like a silver bell."

During this interval the bear again applied to the cooler, and burnt himself as before; and this time, being more angry, he now gave another roar, and, as if considering that the joke had been played upon him by the party who were looking on, he made directly for them at a quick run.

"Now, John," said Malachi, "get your bead well on him, right between his eyes."

John kneeled down in front of Malachi, who had his rifle all ready. Much to the horror of Mrs Campbell, John permitted the bear to come within twenty yards of him. He then fired, and the animal fell dead without a struggle.

"A good shot, and well put in," said Malachi, going up to the bear. "Let the dogs loose, Martin, that they may worry the carcase; it will do them good."

Martin did so; the dogs were permitted to pull and tear at the dead animal for a few minutes, and then taken off; in the mean time, Mr Campbell and the ladies had come up to where the animal lay.

"Well, ma'am, isn't John a cool shoot?" said Malachi. "Could the oldest hunter have done better?"

"My dear John, you quite frightened me," said Mrs Campbell; "why did you allow the beast to come so near to you?"

"Because I wanted to kill him dead, and not wound him," replied John.

"To be sure," replied Malachi; "to wound a bear is worse than leaving him alone."

"Well, Malachi, you certainly have made a hunter of John," said Mr Campbell. "I could not have supposed such courage and presence of mind in one so young."

John was very much praised, as he deserved to be, by the whole party; and then Malachi said, "The skin belongs to John, that of course."

"Is the bear good eating now?" said Mrs Campbell.

"Not very, ma'am," replied Malachi, "for he has consumed all his fat during the winter; but we will cut off the legs for hams, and when they are salted and smoked with the other meat, you will acknowledge that a bear's ham is, at all events, a dish that anyone may say is good. Come, John, where's your knife? Martin, give us a hand here, while Mr Campbell and the ladies go home."



CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

MALACHI AND THE INDIAN.

It was in the first week of June that Malachi, when he was out in the woods, perceived an Indian, who came to wards him. He was a youth of about twenty or twenty-one years old, tall and slightly made; he carried his bow and arrows and his tomahawk, but had no gun. Malachi was at that time sitting down on the trunk of a fallen tree; he was not more than two miles from the house, and had gone out with his rifle without any particular intent, unless it was that, as he expected he should soon receive some communication from the Indians, he wished to give them an opportunity of speaking to him alone. The Indian came up to where Malachi was, and took a seat by him, without saying a word.

"Is my son from the West?" said Malachi, in the Indian tongue, after a silence of one or two minutes.

"The Young Otter is from the West," replied the Indian. "The old men have told him of the Grey Badger, who has lived the life of a snake, and who has hunted with the fathers of those who are now old. Does my father live with the white man?"

"He lives with the white man," replied Malachi; "he has no Injun blood in his veins."

"Has the white man many in his lodge?" said the Indian.

"Yes; many young men and many rifles," replied Malachi.

The Indian did not continue this conversation, and there was a silence, of some minutes. Malachi was convinced that the young Indian had been sent to intimate that Percival was alive and in captivity, and he resolved to wait patiently till he brought up the subject.

"Does not the cold kill the white man?" said the Indian at last.

"No; the white man can bear the winter's ice as well as an Injun. He hunts as well, and brings home venison."

"Are all who came here with him now in the white man's lodge?"

"No, not all; one white child slept in the snow, and is in the land of spirits," replied Malachi.

Here there was a pause in the conversation for some minutes; at last the young Indian said, "A little bird sang in my ear, and it said, 'The white man's child is not dead; it wandered about in the woods and was lost, and the Indian found him, and took him to his wigwam in the Far West.'"

"Did not the little bird lie to the Young Otter?" replied Malachi.

"No; the little bird sung what was true," replied the Indian. "The white boy is alive and in the lodge of the Indian."

"There are many white men in the country who have children," replied Malachi; "and children are often lost. The little bird may have sung of the child of some other white man."

"The white boy had a rifle in his hand, and snow-shoes on his feet."

"So have all they who go out to hunt in the winter's snow," replied Malachi.

"But the white boy was found near to the white man's lodge."

"Then why was not the boy taken back to the white man by the Indians who found him?"

"They were going to their own wigwams and could not turn aside; besides, they feared to come near to the white man's lodge after the sun was down; as my father says he has many young men and many rifles."

"But the white man does not raise his rifle against the Injun, whether he comes by day or by night," replied Malachi. "At night he kills the prowling wolf when he comes near to the lodge."

The Indian again stopped and was silent. He knew by the words of Malachi that the wolf's skin, with which the Indian had been covered when he was crawling to the palisades and had been shot by John, had been discovered; Malachi, after a while, renewed the conversation.

"Is the Young Otter of a near tribe?"

"The lodges of our tribe are twelve days' journey to the westward," replied the Indian.

"The chief of the Young Otter's band is a great warrior?"

"He is," replied the Indian.

"Yes," replied Malachi. "The Angry Snake is a great warrior. Did he send the Young Otter to me to tell me that the white boy was alive and in his wigwam?"

The Indian again paused. He perceived that Malachi knew where he came from, and from whom. At last he said, "It is many moons since the Angry Snake has taken care of the white boy, and has fed him with venison; many moons that he has hunted for him to give him food; and the white boy loves the Angry Snake as a father, and the Angry Snake loves the boy as his son. He will adopt him, and the white boy will be the chief of the tribe. He will forget the white men, and become red as an Indian."

"The boy is forgotten by the white man, who has long numbered him with the dead," replied Malachi.

"The white man has no memory," replied the Indian, "to forget so soon; but it is not so. He would make many presents to him who would bring back the boy."

"And what presents could he make?" replied Malachi; "the white man is poor, and hunts with his young men as the Injun does. What has the white man to give that the Injun covets? He has no whisky."

"The white man has powder, and lead, and rifles," replied the Indian; "more than he can use, locked up in his store-house."

"And will the Angry Snake bring back the white boy if the white man gives him powder, and lead, and rifles?" inquired Malachi.

"He will make a long journey, and bring the white boy with him," replied the Indian; "but first let the white man say what presents he will give."

"He shall be spoken to," replied Malachi, "and his answer shall be brought, but the Young Otter must not go to the white man's lodge. A red-skin is not safe from the rifles of the young men. When the moon is at the full I will meet the Young Otter after the sun is down, at the eastern side of the long prairie. Is it good?"

"Good," replied the Indian, who rose, turned on his heel, and walked away into the forest.

When Malachi returned to the house, he took an opportunity of communicating to Alfred what had taken place. After some conversation, they agreed that they would make Captain Sinclair, who had that morning arrived from the fort, their confidant as to what had occurred, and decide with him upon what steps should be taken. Captain Sinclair was very much surprised, and equally delighted, when he heard that Percival was still alive, and warmly entered into the subject.

"The great question is, whether it would not be better to accede to the terms of this scoundrel of an Indian chief," observed Captain Sinclair. "What are a few pounds of powder, and a rifle or two, compared with the happiness which will be produced by the return of Percival to his parents, who have so long lamented him as dead?"

"It's not that, sir," replied Malachi. "I know that Mr Campbell would give his whole store-room to regain his boy, but we must consider what will be the consequence if he does so. One thing is certain, that the Angry Snake will not be satisfied with a trifling present; he will ask many rifles, perhaps more than we have at the farm, and powder and shot in proportion; for he has mixed much with white people, especially when the French were here, and he knows how little we value such things, and how much we love our children. But, sir, in the first place, you supply him and his band with arms to use against us at any other time, and really make them formidable; and in the next place, you encourage him to make some other attempt to obtain similar presents—for he will not be idle. Recollect, sir, that we have in all probability killed one of their band, when he came to reconnoitre the house in the skin of a wolf, and that will never he forgotten, but revenged as soon as it can be. Now, sir, if we give him arms and ammunition, we shall put the means of revenge in his hands, and I should not be surprised to find us one day attacked by him and his band, and it may be, overpowered by means of these rifles which you propose to give him."

"There is much truth and much good sense in what you say, Malachi— indeed, I think it almost at once decides the point, and that we must not consent to his terms; but then what must we do to recover the boy?"

"That is the question which puzzles me," replied Alfred, "for I perfectly agree with Malachi, that we must not give him arms and ammunition, and I doubt if he would accept of any thing else."

"No, sir, that he will not, depend upon it," replied Malachi. "I think there is but one way that will give us any chance."

"What, then, is your idea, Malachi?"

"The Angry Snake with his band were tracking us, and had we not been too strong, would have attacked and murdered us all, that is dear. Not daring to do that, he has stolen Percival, and detains him, to return him at his own price. Now, sir, the Young Otter has come to us, and offers to come again. We had given him no pledge of safe conduct, and, therefore, when he comes again, we must have an ambush ready for him and make him prisoner; but then you see, sir, we must have the assistance of the Colonel, for he must be confined at the fort; we could not well keep him at the farm. In the first place, it would be impossible then to withhold the secret from Mr and Mrs Campbell; and, in the next, we should have to be on the look-out for an attack every night for his rescue; but if the Colonel was to know the whole circumstances, and would assist us, we might capture the Injun lad, and hold him as a hostage for Master Percival, till we could make some terms with the Angry Snake."

"I like your idea very much, Malachi," replied Captain Sinclair, "and if, Alfred, you agree with me, I will acquaint the Colonel with the whole of what has passed when I return to-night, and see if he will consent to our taking such a step. When are you to meet the Indian, Malachi?"

"In three days, that is on Saturday; it will be the full of the moon, and then I meet him at night at the end of the prairie nearest to the fort, so that there will be no difficulty in doing all we propose without Mr and Mrs Campbell being aware of any thing that has taken place."

"I think we cannot do better than you have proposed," said Alfred.

"Be it so, then," said Captain Sinclair. "I will be here again to-morrow—no, not to-morrow, but the day after will be better, and then I will give you the reply of the Colonel, and make such arrangements as may be necessary."

"That's all right, sir," replied Malachi; "and now all we have to do is to keep our own secret; so, perhaps, Captain Sinclair, you had better go back to the young ladies, for Miss Mary may imagine that it must be something of very great importance which can have detained you so long from her presence;" and Malachi smiled as he finished his remark.

"There's good sense in that observation, Malachi," said Alfred, laughing. "Come, Sinclair."

Captain Sinclair quitted in the evening, and went back to the fort. He returned at the time appointed, and informed them that the Colonel fully approved of their plan of holding the young Indian as a hostage, and that he would secure him in the fort as soon as he was brought in.

"Now, do we want any assistance from the fort? Surely not, to capture an Indian lad—at least, so I said to the Colonel," continued Captain Sinclair.

"No, sir, we want no assistance, as you say. I am his match myself, if that were all; but it is not strength which is required. He is as lithe and supple as an eel, and as difficult to hold, that I am certain of. If we were to use our rifles there would be no difficulty; but to hold him will give some trouble to two of us, and if once he breaks loose he would be too fleet for any of us."

"Well, then, Malachi, how shall we proceed?"

"Why, sir, I must meet him, and you and Mr Alfred and Martin must be hid at a distance, and gradually steal near to us. Martin shall have his deer-thongs all ready, and when you pounce upon him he must bind him at once. Martin is used to them, and knows how to manage it."

"Well, if you think that we three cannot manage him, let us have Martin."

"It isn't strength, sir," replied Malachi, "but he will slip through your fingers if not well tied in half a minute. Now, we will just walk down to where I intend to meet him, and survey the place, and then I'll show you where you must be, for we must not be seen together in that direction to-morrow, for he may be lurking about, and have some suspicion."

They then walked to the end of the prairie nearest the fort, which was about a mile from the house, and Malachi having selected his ground, and pointed out to them where to conceal themselves, they returned to the house, Alfred having made arrangements when and where he and Martin would meet Captain Sinclair on the day appointed.

The next day passed, and Malachi, as the sun sank behind the lake, walked out to the end of the prairie. He had not been there ten minutes when the young Indian stood before him. He was armed as before with his tomahawk and bow and arrows; but Malachi had come out expressly without his rifle.

Malachi, as soon as he perceived the Indian, sat down, as is the usual custom among them when they hold a talk, and the Young Otter followed his example.

"Has my father talked to the white man?" said the Indian after a short silence.

"The white man grieves for the loss of his boy, and his squaw weeps," replied Malachi. "The Angry Snake must bring the boy to the white man's lodge and receive presents."

"Will the white man be generous?" continued the Indian.

"He has powder, and lead, and rifles, and tobacco: will such presents please the Angry Snake?"

"The Angry Snake had a dream," replied the Indian, "and he told me his dream. He dreamt that the white boy was put into his mother's arms, who wept for joy, and the white man gave to the Angry Snake ten rifles, and two kegs of powder, and as much lead as four men could carry away."

"'Twas a good dream," replied Malachi, "and it will come true when the white boy comes back to his mother."

"The Angry Snake had another dream. He dreamt that the white man received his child, and pushed the Angry Snake out from the door of his lodge."

"That was bad," replied Malachi. "Look at me, my son; say, did you ever hear that the Grey Badger said a lie?" And Malachi laid hold of the Indian's arm as he spoke.

This was the signal agreed upon between Malachi and the party concealed, who rushed forward and seized the Indian.

The Young Otter sprang up in spite of their endeavours to keep him, and would certainly have escaped, for he had got his tomahawk clear, and was about to wield it around his head, had not Martin already passed one of the deer-thongs round his ankle, by which the Indian was thrown again to the ground. His arms were then secured behind his back with other deer-skin thongs, and another passed round his ankle, and given to Alfred.

"You were right, Malachi," said Captain Sinclair. "How he contrived to twist himself out of our grasp I cannot imagine; but he certainly would have been off, and probably have broken our heads before he went."

"I know the nature of these Injuns, sir," replied Malachi; "they're never safe, even when tied, if the thong does not cut into the bone; but you have him now, sir, fast enough, and the sooner you get to the fort the better. You have your rifles in the bush?"

"Yes," replied Martin, "you'll find them behind the large oak tree."

"I'll fetch them; not that I think there's much danger of a rescue."

"We have not far to take him," said Captain Sinclair, "for, as I wished you and Alfred not to be so long away as to induce questions to be asked, I have a file of men and a corporal about half a mile off, concealed in the bush. But Malachi, it is as well to let the Indian know that he is only detained as a hostage, and, will be returned as soon as the boy is sent back."

Malachi addressed the Indian in his own tongue, and told him what Captain Sinclair requested.

"Tell him that there are several Indian women about the fort, who will take any message he may send to the Angry Snake."

The Young Otter made no reply to anything said by Malachi, but looked around him very impatiently.

"Be off as fast as you can," said Malachi, "for, depend upon it, the Angry Snake was to meet him after his talk with me; I see it by his wandering eye, and his looking round for assistance. I will go with you, and return with Alfred and Martin, for I have no rifle."

"You can take mine, Malachi, as soon as we come up to the soldiers."

This was done in a few minutes. Captain Sinclair then took charge of the Indian, and set off with his party for the fort. Malachi, Alfred, and Martin returned to the house, and before they entered the prairie, Martin detected the tall figure of an Indian at a short distance, in the shade of the trees.

"Yes, I was sure of it," said Malachi. "It was well that I did not go back without you. After all, in the woods, a man's no man without his rifle."



CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

JOHN'S DANGER.

Martin was right when he stated that he perceived the form of the Angry Snake under the shade of the trees. The chief was then watching what occurred, and had been witness to the capture of his emissary, and, following those who had the Young Otter in charge, saw him conveyed to the fort. In the meantime, Malachi, Martin, and Alfred went home, without any suspicion being raised among the other branches of the family of what had occurred. This gave them great satisfaction.

"Well, Malachi," said Alfred the next morning, as they were all busily employed getting the seed into the cleared land, "what do you imagine will be the steps now taken by the Angry Snake?"

"It's hard to say, sir," replied Malachi; "for he well deserves the name of a snake, if, as the Scripture says, it is the subtlest thing on earth: he will try all he can, you may be sure; and if it were not that he is afraid of us, he would attack us immediately; but that I have no idea that he will venture upon."

"No, for your letter says that he has only two rifles in his band, which are not enough to give him any chance of success."

"Very true, sir. I hear that the bateaux are coming from the fort for the plank and flour."

"Yes, to-morrow, if there is not so much wind as there is to-day; it blows very fresh. Where is John?"

"I left him with the Strawberry, sir; they were busy with the sugar."

"By-the-bye, how much have you got, Malachi?"

"About three or four hundred pounds, sir, as near as I can reckon; quite as much as madam will require."

"Yes, I should think so; now we shall have preserves of all sorts and the fruit for nothing; the wild raspberries are nearly ripe, and so are the cherries; my cousins want John to help to gather them."

"Well, sir, I dare say he will do so, although I believe that he would rather do anything else. He said he was going to fish this morning."

"The water is too rough, and he will not be able to manage the punt by himself."

"Then that's the very reason why he'll go out," replied Malachi; "he doesn't like easy jobs like picking raspberries. Is it true, Mr Alfred, that we are to have some more settlers come here?"

"Yes, I believe so; my father is very anxious to have them; he thinks it will be a great security, and he has offered them very advantageous terms. You won't much like that, Malachi?"

"Well, sir, I dare say you may think so, but it is not the case; if any one had told me, two years ago, that I could have remained here, I would have said it was impossible; but we are all creatures of habit. I had been so used to my own company for so long a time that when I first saw you I couldn't bear the sight of you; no, not even that of your pretty cousins, Miss Mary and Emma, although, Heaven knows, they might tame a savage; but now, sir, I feel quite changed; I have first borne with company because I fancied the boy, and then I felt no dislike to it, and now I like it. I believe that in my old age I am coming back to my feelings as a boy, and I think very often of my father's farm, and the little village that was close to it; and then I often fancy that I should like to see a village rise up here, and a church stand up there upon the mount; I think I should like to live on till I saw a church built, and God worshipped as He ought to be."

"This is indeed a change, Malachi; well, I hope you will see a church on the mount, and live many years afterwards to be present at the weddings and christenings."

"As it pleases God, sir. There's one thing, Mr Alfred, that has given me great content, and more than anything, perhaps, reconciled me to my new way of living; and that is, that the Strawberry, by the blessing of God and the labour of your mother and cousins, has become a good Christian; you don't know how pleased I am at that."

"She's an excellent little creature, Malachi; everyone is fond of her, and I believe Martin is very strongly attached to her."

"Yes, sir, she's a good wife, for she never uses her tongue, and obeys her husband in all things. I think Martin has now become quite steady, and you might send him to Montreal, or anywhere else, without fear of his getting into the prison for making a disturbance... I see that a bear has been over into the maize-field last night."

"What! did he climb the snake-fence?"

"Yes, sir, they climb anything; but I have got his tracks, and this night I think that I shall get hold of him, for I shall lay a trap for him."

Malachi and Alfred continued to work for two or three hours, when they were summoned by Emma to go in to dinner. "I cannot find John," said Emma, as they walked home; "Strawberry says that he left her some time back, and went to fish; have you seen him pass by the river's, side?"

"No," replied Alfred; "but, Malachi, you said that he was going to fish in the punt, did you not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you see the punt on the beach, Emma?"

"No, I do not," replied Emma; "but it may be behind the point."

"Nor can I; I hope he has not been carried away by the wind, for it blows very hard; I'll run down, and see if he is there."

Alfred ran down to the beach; the punt was gone from the shore, and after looking for some time to leeward, which was to the eastward, in the direction of the rapids, Alfred thought that he perceived something like a boat at a distance of three or four miles; but the water of the lake was much raffled by the strong wind, and it was not easy to distinguish.

Alfred hastened back, and said to Emma, "I really am afraid that John is adrift. I think I see the boat, but am not sure. Emma, go in quietly and bring out my telescope, which is over my bed-place. Do not let them see you, or they will be asking questions, and your aunt may be alarmed."

Emma went to the house, and soon returned with the telescope. Alfred and Malachi then went down to the beach, and the former distinctly made out that what he had seen was the punt adrift, with John in it.

"Now, what is to be done?" said Alfred. "I must take a horse and ride off to the fort, for if they do not see him before he passes he may not be picked up."

"If he once gets into the rapids, sir," said Malachi, "he will be in great danger, for he may be borne down upon one of the rocks and upset in a minute."

"Yes, but he is some way from them yet," replied Alfred.

"Very true, sir; but with this strong wind right down to them, and helping the current, he will soon be there. There is no time to be lost."

"No; but I'll go in to dinner, and as soon as I have taken a mouthful, just to avoid creating any alarm, I will slip out, and ride to the fort as fast as I can."

"Just so; you will be there in good time, for he is now three miles above the fort; indeed, he cannot well pass it without their seeing him."

"Yes he can, now that the water is so rough," replied Alfred; "recollect that they are soldiers in the fort, and not sailors, who are accustomed to look on the water. A piece of drift timber and a punt is much the same to their eyes. Come, let us go in to dinner."

"Yes, sir, I'll follow you," replied Malachi; "but, before I come in I'll catch the horse and saddle him for you. You can tell Miss Emma to hold her tongue about it."

Alfred rejoined Emma, whom he cautioned, and then they went in to their dinner.

"Where's John?" said Mr Campbell; "he promised me some lake-fish for dinner, and has never brought them in; so you will not have such good fare as I expected."

"And where's Malachi?" said Alfred.

"I daresay he and John are out together somewhere," observed Henry, who, with Martin, had come in before Alfred.

"Well he will lose his dinner," said Mrs Campbell.

"That's what I cannot afford to do, mother," said Alfred; "I am very hungry, and I have not more than five minutes to spare, for that seed must be put in to-night."

"I thought Malachi was with you, Alfred," said Mr Campbell.

"So he was, father," replied Alfred, "but he left me. Now, mother, please to give me my dinner."

Alfred ate fast, and then rose from the table and went away from the house. The horse was all ready, and he mounted and rode off for the fort, telling Malachi that his father and mother thought John was with him; and that, therefore, he had better not go in to dinner, but keep out of the way.

"Yes, sir, that will be best, and then they can ask no questions. Be quick, sir, for I am not at all easy about the boy."

Their plans, however, to conceal the danger of John did not succeed; for Mrs Campbell, after the loss of poor little Percival, had become more than ever solicitous about John, and, a minute or two after Alfred had left the house, she rose from the table and went to the door, to see if she could perceive Malachi and John coming in. As it happened, Alfred had just set off in a gallop, and she saw him, as well as Malachi standing by himself and watching Alfred's departure. The very circumstance of Alfred's mysterious departure alarmed her. He had never said that he was going to the fort, and that John was not with Malachi was certain. She went into the cottage, and, sinking back into her chair, exclaimed—"Some accident has happened to John!"

"Why should you say so, my dear?" said Mr Campbell.

"I'm sure of it," replied Mrs Campbell, bursting into tears. "Alfred is riding away to the fort. Malachi is standing by himself outside. What can it be?"

Mr Campbell and all the others ran out immediately, except Mary Percival, who went to Mrs Campbell. Mr Campbell beckoned to Emma, and from her obtained the real state of the case.

"It will be better to tell her at once," said Mr Campbell, who then went to his wife, telling her that John was adrift, and that Alfred had ridden to the fort to pick him up in one of the bateaux, but there was no danger to be apprehended.

"Why should they conceal it, if there was no danger, Campbell?" replied his wife. "Yes; there must be danger now the water is so rough. My child, am I to lose you as well as my poor Percival!" continued Mrs Campbell, again sobbing.

Every attempt was made to console her and assuage her fears, but with indifferent success, and the afternoon of this day was passed in great concern by all, and in an extreme state of nervous anxiety on the part of Mrs Campbell. Towards the evening, Alfred was seen returning on horseback at full speed. The whole of the family were out watching his arrival, with beating hearts; poor Mrs Campbell in almost a fainting state. Alfred perceived them long before he had crossed the prairie, and waved his hat in token of good tidings.

"All's well, depend upon it, my dear," said Mr Campbell. "Alfred would not wave his hat if there was any disaster."

"I must have it from his own mouth," said Mrs Campbell, almost breathless.

"Safe?" cried out Martin to Alfred, as he approached.

"Safe, quite safe!" cried Alfred, in return.

"Thank Heaven!" cried Mrs Campbell, in a low voice, clasping her hands in gratitude.

Alfred leaped off his saddle, and hastened to communicate the news. John, trusting too much to his own powers, had gone out into the punt, and soon found out that he could not manage it in so strong a wind. He attempted to get back to the beach, but was unsuccessful, and had, as we have said, been carried away by the wind and current down towards the rapids; but it so happened, that before Alfred had arrived at the fort, Captain Sinclair had observed the punt adrift, and, by the aid of a telescope, ascertained that John was in it, exerting himself very vigorously, but to no purpose. Captain Sinclair, having reported it to the Commandant and obtained permission, had launched one of the bateaux, manned by the soldiers, and had brought John and the punt on shore, about four miles below the fort, and not until they had arrived in the strong current of the rapids, which in another hour would have, in all probability, proved fatal. Alfred, from the fort, had seen Captain Sinclair gain the shore, with John and the punt in tow, and, as soon as he was satisfied of his brother's safety, had ridden back as fast as he could, to communicate it.

This intelligence gave them all great delight, and now that they knew that John was safe, they waited his return with patience.

Captain Sinclair arrived, with John behind him, on horseback, about two hours afterwards, and was greatly welcomed.

"Indeed, Captain Sinclair, we are under great obligations to you. Had you not been so active, the boy might have been lost," said Mrs Campbell. "Accept my best thanks."

"And mine," said Mary, extending her hand to him.

"John, you have frightened me very much," said Mrs Campbell; "how could you be so imprudent as to go on the lake in such a high wind? See, what a narrow escape you have had."

"I should have been at Montreal to-morrow morning," said John, laughing.

"No, never; you would have been upset in the rapids long before you could get to Montreal."

"Well, mother, I can swim," replied John.

"You naughty boy, nothing will make you afraid."

"Well, ma'am, it's a good fault, that of having confidence in yourself, so don't check it too much," replied Malachi. "It saves many a man who would otherwise be lost."

"That's very true, Malachi," observed Alfred; "so, now that he is safe back, we won't scold John any more. He will know better than to go out in such rough weather again."

"To be sure I shall," said John; "I don't want to go down the rapids."

"Well, I'm glad to hear you say that," replied Mrs Campbell.

Captain Sinclair remained with them that night. Before daylight, the family were alarmed by the report of a gun, and it was immediately supposed that some attack had been made on the lodge occupied by Malachi, Martin, and his wife. Captain Sinclair, Alfred, Henry, and John sprang out of bed, and were clothed in a minute. As soon as they had armed themselves, they opened the door cautiously, and, looking well round, went through the passage to the sheep-fold where the lodge was built. Everything, however, appeared to be quiet, and Alfred knocked at the door. Malachi answered to the inquiry, "What is the matter?"

"We heard the report of a gun close to the house just now, and we thought something might have happened."

"Oh!" cried Malachi, laughing, "is that all? Then you may all go to bed again. It's my trap for the bear—nothing more. I forgot to tell you last night."

"Well, as we are up, we may as well go and see," said Alfred. "The day is breaking."

"Well, sir, I am ready," said Malachi, coming out with his deer-skin jacket in one hand and his rifle in the other.

They walked to the maize-field on the other side of the river, and found that the trap had been successful, for a large bear lay dead at the foot of the snake-fence.

"Yes, sir, I've got him," said Malachi. "But what was the trap," said Henry. "You see, sir, I tracked the brute over the rails by his broad foot-mark, and as I knew he would come the same way, I fixed the rifle with a wire to the trigger, so that, as he climbed up, he must touch the wire with his fore-paws, and the muzzle, pointed a little downwards, would then about reach his heart when the gun went off. You see, sir, it has happened just as I wished it, and there's another good skin for Montreal."

"It is a she-bear," said Martin, who had joined them, "and she has cubs; they can't be far off."

"That's true," replied Malachi; "so now you had better all go back again. Martin and I will hide, and I'll answer for it, in an hour, we will bring the cubs home with us."

The rest of the party returned to the house. The Strawberry had already made known to Mr and Mrs Campbell the cause of the report. About an hour before breakfast, Malachi and Martin came in, each with a cub of a few weeks old. The little animals had come in the track of the mother in search of her, and were pawing the dead body, as if trying to awaken her, when Malachi and Martin secured them.

"What a charming pet!" said Emma. "I will rear it for myself."

"And I'll have the other," said John.

No objection was raised to this, except that Mr Campbell observed that, if they became troublesome as they grew up, they must be parted with, which was agreed to. Emma and John took possession of their pets, and fed them with milk, and in a few days they became very tame; one being chained up near the house, and the other at Malachi's lodge. They soon grew very playful and very amusing little animals, and the dogs became used to them, and never attempted to hurt them; indeed, very often Oscar and the bear would be seen rolling about together, the best friends in the world. But in a few months they became too large for pets, and too trouble some; so one was despatched by a bateau going to Montreal, as a present to Mr Emmerson, and the other was taken to the fort by Captain Sinclair, and became a great favourite of the soldiers.



CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

MARY CARRIED OFF.

Captain Sinclair was now very constantly at the house, for in the summer-time the Commandant allowed much more liberty to the officers. Although the detention of the Young Otter, and the cause of his being detained, had been made known to the Angry Snake, weeks passed away, and yet there appeared no intention on the part of the chief to redeem his young warrior by producing Percival. Every day an overture on his part was expected, but none came, and those who were in the secret were in a continual state of suspense and anxiety. One thing had been ascertained, which was that the Indian fired at by John had been killed, and this occasioned much fear on the part of Malachi and Martin, that the Angry Snake would revenge the death upon young Percival. This knowledge of the Indian feeling, however, they kept to themselves.

Towards the close of the summer they had an arrival of letters and newspapers, both from England and Montreal.

There was nothing peculiarly interesting in the intelligence from England, although the newspapers were, as usual, read with great avidity. One paragraph met the eye of Henry, which he immediately communicated, observing at the time that they always obtained news of Mr Douglas Campbell on every fresh arrival. The paragraph was as follows:—"The Oxley hounds had a splendid run on Friday last;" after describing the country they passed through, the paragraph ended with, "We regret to say that Mr Douglas Campbell, of Wexton Hall, received a heavy fall from his horse, in clearing a wide brook. He is, however, we understand, doing well." The letters from Montreal, were, however, important. They communicated the immediate departure from that city of four families of emigrants, who had accepted the terms offered by Mr Emmerson, and were coming to settle upon Mr Campbell's property. They also stated that the purchase of the other six hundred acres of contiguous land had been completed, and sent the government receipts for the purchase-money.

The news contained in this letter induced Mr Campbell to send a message to the Commandant of the fort, by Captain Sinclair, acquainting him with the expected arrival of the emigrant families, and requesting to know whether he would allow a party of soldiers to assist in raising the cottages necessary for their reception, and begging the loan of two or three tents to accommodate them upon their arrival, until their cottages should be built. The reply of the Commandant was favourable, and now all was bustle and activity, that, if possible, the buildings might be in forwardness previous to harvest time, when they would all have ample occupation. Indeed, as the hay-harvest was just coming on, without assistance from the fort they never could have got through the work previous to the winter setting in, and it would have been very inconvenient to have had to receive any of the emigrants into their own house.

The sites of the four cottages, or log-huts, were soon selected; they were each of them nearly half a mile from Mr Campbell's house, and while some of the party, assisted by a portion of the soldiers, were getting in the hay, the others, with another portion, were cutting down the trees, and building up the cottages. In a fortnight after they had commenced, the emigrants arrived, and were housed in the tents prepared for them; and as their labour was now added to that of the others, in a short time everything was well in advance. The agreement made by Mr Campbell was, that the emigrants should each receive fifty acres of land, after they had cleared for him a similar quantity; but there were many other conditions, relative to food and supply of stock to the emigrant families, which are not worth the while to dwell upon. It is sufficient to say that Mr Campbell, with his former purchases, retained about 600 acres, which he considered quite sufficient for his farm, which was all in a ring fence, and with the advantage of bordering on the lake. The fire had cleared a great deal of the new land, so that it required little trouble for his own people to get it into a fit state for the first crop.

While the emigrants and soldiers were hard at work, the Colonel paid a visit to Mr Campbell, to settle his account with him, and handed over a bill upon government for the planks, flour, etcetera, supplied to the fort.

"I assure you, Mr Campbell, I have great pleasure," said the Colonel, "in giving you every assistance, and I render it the more readily as I am authorised by the Governor so to do. Your arrival and settling here has proved very advantageous; for, your supplying the fort has saved the government a great deal of money, at the same time that it has been profitable to you, and enabled you to get rid of your crops without sending them down so far as Montreal; which would have been as serious an expense to you, as getting the provisions from Montreal has proved to us. You may keep the fatigue party of soldiers upon the same terms as before, as long as they may prove useful to you, provided they return to the fort by the coming of winter."

"Then I will, if you please, retain them for getting in the harvest; we have so much to do that I shall be most happy to pay for their assistance."

I have said that there were four families of emigrants, and now I will let my readers know a little more about them.

The first family was a man and his wife of the name of Harvey; they had two sons of fourteen and fifteen, and a daughter of eighteen years of age. This man had been a small farmer, and by his industry was gaining an honest livelihood, and patting by some money, when his eldest son, who was at the time about twenty years old, fell into bad company, and was always to be seen at the alehouses or at the fairs, losing his time and losing his money. The father, whose ancestors had resided for many generations on the same spot, and had always been, as long as they could trace back, small farmers like himself, and who was proud of only one thing, which was that his family had been noted for honesty and upright dealing, did all he could to reclaim him, but in vain. At last the son was guilty of a burglary, tried, convicted, and transported for life. The disgrace had such an effect upon the father, that he never held up his head afterwards; he was ashamed to be seen in the parish, and at last he resolved to emigrate to a new country, where what had happened would not be known.

He accordingly sold off everything, and came to Canada; but by the time that he had arrived in the country, and paid all his expenses, he had little money left; and when he heard from Mr Emmerson the terms offered by Mr Campbell, he gladly accepted them. The wife, his two sons, and his daughter, who came with him, were as industrious and respectable as himself.

The second family, of the name of Graves, consisted of a man and his wife, and only one son—a young man grown up; but the wife's two sisters were with them. He had come from Buckinghamshire, and had been accustomed to a dairy farm.

The third family was a numerous one, with a man and his wife, of the name of Jackson; they had been farmers and market gardeners near London, and had brought out some money with them. But, as I have mentioned, they had a very large family—most of them too young to be very useful for a few years. They had seven children—a girl of eighteen, two boys of twelve and thirteen, then three little girls, and a boy, an infant. Jackson had money enough to purchase a farm, but, being a prudent man, and reflecting that he might not succeed at first, and that his large family would ran away with all his means, he decided upon accepting the terms proposed by Mr Campbell.

The fourth and last of the emigrant families was a young couple of the name of Meredith. The husband was the son of a farmer in Shropshire, who had died, and divided his property between his three sons. Two of them remained upon the farm, and paid the youngest brother his proportion in money, who, being of a speculative turn, resolved to come to Canada and try his fortune. He married just before he came out, and was not as yet encumbered with any family. He was a fine young man, well educated, and his wife a very clever, pretty young woman.

Thus there was an addition of twenty-one souls to the population of Mr Campbell's settlement, which with their own ten made a total of thirty-one people, out of whom they reckoned that thirteen were capable of bearing arms, and defending them from any attack of the Indians.

Before harvest time, the cottages were all built, and the emigrants were busy felling round their new habitations, to lay up firewood for the winter, and clearing away a spot for a garden, and for planting potatoes in the following spring. The harvest being ripe again, gave them all full employment; the corn was got in with great expedition by the united labour of the soldiers and emigrants, when the former, having completed their work, returned to the fort, and the Campbells, with the addition to their colony, were now left alone. Visiting the emigrants in their own cottages, and making acquaintance with the children, was now a great source of amusement to the Misses Percival. Various plans were started relative to establishing a Sunday-school, and many other useful arrangements; one, however, took place immediately, which was, that divine service was performed by Mr Campbell in his own house, and was attended by all the emigrants every Sunday. Mr Campbell had every reason to be pleased with their conduct up to the present time; they all appeared willing, never murmured or complained at any task allotted to them, and were satisfied with Mr Campbell's arrangements relative to supplies. Parties were now again formed for the chase; Meredith and young Graves proved to be good woodsmen and capital shots with the rifle, so that now they had enough to send out a party on alternate days, while one or two of the others fished all the day and salted down as fast as they caught, that there might be a full supply for the winter.

But although Mr and Mrs Campbell and the Misses Percival, as well as the major part of the family were fully satisfied and happy in their future prospects, there were four who were in a state of great anxiety and suspense. These were Alfred, Malachi, Martin, and the Strawberry, who, being acquainted with the existence of young Percival, found their secret a source of great annoyance, now that, notwithstanding the capture and detention of the Young Otter, no advance appeared to be made for his exchange, nor any signs of an overture on the part of the Angry Snake. Captain Sinclair, who was usually at the farm twice during the week, was also much fretted at finding that every time Malachi and Alfred had no more information to give him, than he had to impart to them. They hardly knew how to act; to let a second winter pass away without attempting to recover the boy, appeared to them to be delaying too long, and yet to communicate intelligence which might only end in bitter disappointment, seemed unadvisable; for the Indian chief, out of revenge, might have killed the boy, and then the grief of the father and mother would be more intense than before. It would be opening a wound to no purpose. This question was frequently canvassed by Alfred and Captain Sinclair, but an end was put to all their debates on the subject by an unexpected occurrence. Mary Percival had one morning gone down to a place called the Cedar Swamp, about half a mile from the house to the westward, near to the shore of the lake, to pick cranberries for preserving. One of the little emigrant girls, Martha Jackson, was with her; when one basket was full, Mary sent it home by the little girl, with directions to come back immediately. The girl did so, but on her return to the Cedar Swamp, Mary Percival was not to be seen. The basket which she had retained with her was lying with all the cranberries upset out of it on a hill by the side of the swamp. The little girl remained for a quarter of an hour, calling out Miss Percival's name, but not receiving any answer, she became frightened, imagining that some wild beast had attacked her; and she ran back as fast as she could to the house, acquainting Mr and Mrs Campbell with what had happened. Martin and Alfred were at the mill; Malachi, fortunately, was at his own lodge, and the Strawberry ran for him, told him what the girl had reported, and having done so, she looked at Malachi, and said "Angry Snake."

"Yes, Strawberry, that is the case, I have no doubt," replied Malachi; "but not a word at present; I knew he would be at something, but I did not think that he dared do that either; however, we shall see. Go back to the house and tell master and missis that I have gone down to the Cedar Swamp, and will return as soon as possible, and do you follow me as fast as you can, for your eyes are younger than mine, and I shall want the use of them. Tell them not to send anybody else—it will do harm instead of good—for they will trample the ground, and we may lose the track."

Malachi caught up his rifle, examined the priming, and set off in the direction of the swamp, while the Strawberry returned to the house to give his message to Mr and Mrs Campbell. Leaving Mr and Mrs Campbell, who were in a state of great alarm, and had sent the little girl, Martha Jackson, to summon Alfred and Martin (for John and Henry were out in the woods after the cattle), the Strawberry went down to the Cedar Swamp to join Malachi, whom she found standing, leaning on his rifle, near the basket which had contained the cranberries.

"Now, Strawberry, we must find out how many there were, and which way they have gone," said Malachi, in the Indian tongue.

"Here," said Strawberry, pointing to a mark on the short grass, which never could have attracted the observation of one unused to an Indian life.

"I see, child; I see that and two more, but we cannot tell much as yet; let us follow up the trail till we come to some spot where we may read the print better. That's her foot," continued Malachi, after they had proceeded two or three yards. "The sole of a shoe cuts the grass sharper than a mocassin. We have no easy task just now, and if the others come they may prevent us from finding the track altogether."

"Here, again," said Strawberry, stooping close to the short dry grass.

"Yes, you're right, child," replied Malachi. "Let us once follow it to the bottom of this hill, and then we shall do better."

By the closest inspection and minutest search Malachi and the Strawberry continued to follow the almost imperceptible track till they arrived at the bottom of the hill, about a hundred yards from where they started. It had become more difficult, as the print of Mary's foot, which was more easily perceptible than the others, had served them for a few yards, after which it was no more to be distinguished, and it was evident that she had been lifted up from the ground. This satisfied them that she had been carried off.

When they arrived at the bottom of the hill they could clearly distinguish the print marks of mocassins, and by measuring very exactly the breadth and length of the impressions, made out that they were of two different people. These they continued to follow till they arrived at the forest, about a quarter of a mile from the swamp, when they heard the hallooing of Alfred and Martin, to which Malachi answered, and they soon joined him.

"What is it, Malachi?"

"She has been carried off, sir, I've no doubt," replied Malachi, "by the Snake. The rascal is determined to have the vantage of us. We have one prisoner, and he has made two."

Malachi then explained why he was certain that she had been carried away, and Martin agreed with him immediately.

Alfred then said—"Well, but now, before we act, let us consult what is best to be done."

"Well, sir," replied Malachi, "the best to do now, at this moment, is for the Strawberry and me to follow the trail, and try if we cannot obtain more information; and, when we have got all we can, we must form a party, and go in pursuit. Let us only get fairly on the trail, and we shall not lose it, especially if the Strawberry is with us, for she has a better eye than any Injun I ever knew, be it man or woman."

"Well, that is all right, Malachi; but what shall I do now while you are following up the trail?"

"Well, sir, you must prepare the party, and get them all ready for a start; for we must be off in three hours, it possible."

"Captain Sinclair had better come with us. He will be quite frantic if he does not," said Alfred.

"Well, then, perhaps he had, sir," replied Malachi, coldly; "but I'd rather he were away. He won't be so cool and calm as he ought to be."

"Never fear; but I must now go to my father and mother, and tell the whole of the circumstances which have occurred. I must tell them that Percival is alive."

"Why so, sir?" replied Malachi. "It will only fret them more. It's quite sufficient that they should have to lament Miss Percival being carried off, without their knowing what fresh cause for anxiety there is about the boy. I would only say that Miss Mary has been carried off by somebody, and leave out all about our having captured the Young Otter, and why we took him."

"Well, perhaps it will be better," said Alfred. "Then I'll leave Martin here, and ride off to the fort to Captain Sinclair. Shall I ask for any soldiers?"

"Yes, sir; if there are any good backwoodsmen among them, we may find a couple of them of service. We ought to have a larger force than the Injun; and the latter, if you recollect, is stated at six with the chief. Now, there are you, Martin, and I, that's three; Captain Sinclair and two soldiers would be six; young Graves and Meredith make eight. That's sufficient, sir; more than sufficient does harm. Mr Henry must stay, and so must Mr John, because he will not be home before we are away. I'm sorry for that, as I should have liked him to be with me."

"It can't be helped," replied Alfred. "Well, then, Martin and I will go back at once; in two hours I will return with Captain Sinclair, if I possibly can."

"As quick as you please, sir, and Martin will get everything ready for the journey, for we must not fire our rifles, if we can help it."

Alfred hastened away, and was soon followed by Martin, to whom Malachi had given some directions. Malachi and the Strawberry then continued to follow the trail, which they traced through the thickest of the wood for more than an hour, when they came upon a spot where a fire had been lighted, and the ground trodden down, evidently showing that the parties had been living there for some time.

"Here was the nest of the whole gang," resumed Malachi, as he looked round.

The Strawberry, who had been examining the ground, said, "Here is her foot again."

"Yes, yes; it's clear enough that two of them have carried her off and brought her here to where the others were waiting for them, and from here the whole party have made their start. Now we have the new trail to find, and that they have taken every care to prevent as I do not doubt."

The Strawberry now pointed to a mark near where the fire had been lighted, and said, "The mocassin of a squaw."

"Right; then she is with them; so much the better," replied Malachi; "for, as she sent me that letter, she may serve us still, if she chooses."



CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

THE TRAIL STRUCK.

Previous to his starting for the fort, Alfred had a hasty communication with his father and mother, in which he informed them simply that it was evident that Mary had been carried off, and that it was the opinion of Malachi and Martin that the Angry Snake was the party to be suspected.

"But what cause could he have?" said Emma, weeping.

"Merely to get powder and shot as a reward for bringing her back again," replied Alfred; "so there is not anything to fear as to her being ill-treated; but if he has any other reason for what he has done, it is well known that an Indian always respects a female. But here comes my horse."

"But what are you going to do, Alfred?" said Mrs Campbell, who was in a state of great agitation.

"Ride to the fort for assistance, bring Captain Sinclair, and go in pursuit as fast as we can, mother. Martin will get all ready by my return; Malachi is following up the trail with the Strawberry. But there is no time to be lost; I shall soon be back."

Alfred then sprang upon his horse, which Martin had brought to the door, and galloped away to the fort.

As it may be supposed, Mr and Mrs Campbell and Emma were in great distress; this did not, however, prevent them from listening to Martin, and supplying him with all that he requested, which was salt-pork and other food for their journey, powder and shot for their rifles, etcetera. Having specified all that was wanted, Martin then went off to summon young Graves and Meredith; they were soon found, and when they heard the intelligence, were ready in a minute for departure. Their rifles and an extra pair of mocassins each was all that they required for the journey, and in a few minutes they accompanied Martin to the house. After they had been occupied for a little time in dividing the various articles into different packages, that each might carry his proportion, Mr Campbell said—

"Martin, supposing that you and Malachi are correct in your supposition, where do you think that they will take my poor niece?"

"Right away to their own wigwams, sir," replied Martin.

"Have you any idea how far that may be?" said Mrs Campbell.

"Yes, ma'am, I have heard that the Angry Snake's quarters are about twelve days' journey from this."

"Twelve days' journey! how far is a journey?"

"As far as a stout man can walk in a day, ma'am."

"And will my niece have to walk all that way?"

"Why, yes, ma'am; I don't see how it can be otherwise; I don't know of the Indians having any horses, although they may have."

"But she cannot walk as far as a man," replied Mrs Campbell.

"No, ma'am, and so I suppose they will be twenty days going instead of twelve."

"Will they ill-treat or ill-use her, Martin?" said Emma.

"No, ma'am, I shouldn't think they would, although they will make her walk, and will tie her at night when they stop."

"Poor Mary; what will she suffer?" exclaimed Emma; "and if you do come up with them, Martin, will they give her up to you?"

"We shan't ask their leave, miss," replied Martin; "we shall take her."

"But not without bloodshed, Martin," said Mrs Campbell.

"No, ma'am, certainly not without bloodshed, for either the Indians must destroy us or we them; if we conquer, not an Indian will be left alive; and if they master us, it will be about the same thing, I suppose."

"Heaven protect us, but this is dreadful; I was prepared for difficulties and annoyances when I came out here," exclaimed Mrs Campbell; "but not for such trials as these."

"Never fear but we'll bring her back, ma'am," said Martin; "Malachi is a better Indian than them all, and he'll circumvent them."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, ma'am, that we will, if possible, fall upon them unawares, and then we'll have the advantage, for half of them will be killed before they know that they are attacked; we'll fight them Indian fashion, ma'am."

Mrs Campbell continued her interrogations till Alfred was seen at the end of the prairie returning at full speed, accompanied by Captain Sinclair and two other men, also on horseback.

"Here they come," said Martin; "and they have lost no time, that's certain."

"Poor Captain Sinclair! what must be his feelings, I pity him," said Mrs Campbell.

"He must take it coolly, nevertheless," observed Martin; "or he may do more harm than good."

Alfred and Captain Sinclair now dismounted; they had brought with them two of the soldiers who were well used to the woods, and excellent shots with the rifle. A hurried conversation of a few minutes took place, but time was too precious, and Alfred, embracing his father and mother, who, as they shook hands with Captain Sinclair, expressed in a melancholy way their hopes for their success, the party of seven which had been collected set off to rejoin Malachi and the Strawberry.

Malachi and the Strawberry had not been idle; the latter had ran back to the lodge and procured a bow and arrows, and since that they had tracked the footmarks through the forest for more than a mile, when they had come to a small rivulet which ran through the forest. Here the trail was lost, at least, it was not to be perceived anywhere on the opposite side of the rivulet, and it was to be presumed that, to conceal their trail, the Indians had walked in the water, either up or down, for a certain distance before they put their feet on the other side; but as it was near the time that they might expect the arrival of Alfred and the others, Malachi had returned to the spot where Alfred and Martin had left them, leaving the Strawberry to walk down and up the side of the rivulet to recover the trail. As soon as the party joined him, they and Malachi set off to where the trail had been lost, and the latter had left the Strawberry.

There they waited some time, as the Strawberry was not in sight, and they took this opportunity of distributing the provisions and ammunition among them. Captain Sinclair, although his feelings may well be imagined, was very active in arrangements, and shewed that, if his heart was smitten, his head was clear. The order of the march was settled by Malachi and him, and as soon as all was arranged, they waited impatiently for the return of the Indian girl; she came at last, and informed them that she had recovered the trail about three miles up the course of the stream, and they all started immediately. As was agreed, they kept perfect silence, and followed the newly-discovered trail for about a mile, when, on their arrival at a clear spot in the woods, where the grass was very short and dry, they were again at fault. They went over to the other side of the heath, to see if they could again fall in with it, but after half-an-hour's search, could not discover it, when they were summoned by a low whistle from the Strawberry, who had returned to the spot where the trail had been lost.

"They have turned back again," said the Strawberry, pointing to the former footmarks; "see the track of the mocassins is both ways."

"That's true," said Malachi, after a close examination; "now then, Strawberry, to find out where they have left the old trail again. I told you, sir," continued Malachi to Alfred, "that the Strawberry would be useful; she has the eye of a falcon."

It was not till another half-hour had elapsed that the spot where they had left the trail, which, to deceive those who might pursue them, the Indians had returned upon, was discovered, and then they started again, and proceeded with caution, led by the Strawberry, until she stopped and spoke to Malachi in the Indian tongue, pointing at a small twig broken upon one of the bushes.

"That's true, let us see if it happens again."

In a few moments the Strawberry pointed out another.

"Then all's right," said Malachi; "I said that she could help us again if she chose, and so she has. The Injun woman who wrote the letter," continued Malachi, turning to Captain Sinclair and Alfred, "is our friend still. See, sir, she has, wherever she has dared to do it without being seen by the Injuns, broken down a small twig as a guide to us. Now, if she has continued to do this we shall not have much trouble."

They continued their course through the woods until the sun went down, and they could see no longer, having made a journey of about nine miles from the settlement. They then laid down for the night under a large tree; the weather was very warm, and they did not light a fire as they had some cooked provisions.

The next morning, as soon as it was daylight, they made a hasty meal, and resumed their task. The trail was now pretty clear, and was occasionally verified by the breaking of a twig, as before. This day they made sixteen miles' journey, and at the close of it they arrived at the borders of a lake about ten miles long, and from one and a-half to two wide; the trail went right on to the shore of the lake and then disappeared.

"Here they must have taken to the water," said Alfred; "but what means have they had to cross?"

"That we must discover somehow or another, sir," replied Malachi, "or else we shall not find the trail again; perhaps, however, we shall see to-morrow morning; it is too dark now to attempt to find out, and we may do more harm than good by tracking down the bank. We must bring to for the night. There is a high rock there on the beach farther up; we had better go there, as we can light a fire behind the rock without being discovered by it, supposing the Injuns are on the opposite shore; and to-night we must cook all our provisions if we possibly can, for, depend upon it, we have travelled faster to-day than they can have done with the young lady, and if we can once get well on the trail again we shall soon be up with them."

"God grant that we may!" exclaimed Captain Sinclair; "the idea of what poor Mary must suffer almost drives me mad."

"Yes, sir, she will be terribly foot sore, I have no doubt," replied Malachi; "but the Injuns will not treat her ill, depend upon it."

Captain Sinclair sighed, but made no reply.

As soon as they had arrived at the mass of rock which Malachi had pointed out they all commenced collecting firewood, and the Strawberry in a few minutes had a sufficient fire for their purpose. They had not any cooking utensils with them, but the pork was cut in slices and stuck upon the ends of small sticks round the fire until it was sufficiently cooked, and then it was packed up again in parcels, with the exception of what was retained for their supper. They had finished their meal, and were sitting round the embers of the fire conversing and calculating the probabilities as to their overtaking the Indians, when Martin sprang up, with his rifle ready to bring to his shoulder.

"What is it?" said Alfred in a low tone, as Martin held up his finger as a sign for silence.

"There's somebody coming this way—he is behind that large tree," said Martin; "I see his head now, but it is too dark to make out who it may be."

As Martin said this a low and singular sort of whistle between the teeth was heard, upon which the Strawberry gently put down Martin's rifle with her hand, saying—

"It is John."

"John; impossible!" said Alfred.

"It is," replied Strawberry. "I know well that whistle. I go to fetch him. Have no fear."

Strawberry stepped out from the group, and went up to the tree, calling John softly by name, and in a few seconds afterwards returned, leading John by the hand, who, without saying a word, quietly seated himself down by the fire.

"Well, John, how did you come here?" exclaimed Alfred.

"Followed trail," replied John.

"But how—when did you leave home?"

"Yesterday," replied John, "when I came back."

"But do your father and mother know that you have come?" said Captain Sinclair.

"I met old Graves, and told him," replied John. "Have you any meat?"

"The boy has had nothing since he left, I'll answer for it," said Martin, as the Strawberry handed some of the pork to John. "Have you, John?"

"No," replied John, with his mouth full.

"Let him eat," said Malachi; "it's long for a lad to be two days without food, for I'll answer he left as soon as he heard we were gone, and did not wait for yesterday's supper. Indeed, he must have done so, for he must have followed the trail some time yesterday to be up with us to-night; so let him eat in quiet."

"What surprises me, Malachi, is how he could have found his way to us."

"Well, sir, I do confess that I'm as much surprised almost as I am pleased," replied Malachi. "It is really a great feat for a lad to accomplish all by himself, and I am proud of him for having done it; but from the first I saw what a capital woodsman he would make, and he has not disappointed me."

"There are not many who would have been able to do it, that's certain," said Martin. "I wonder as much as you do, Mr Alfred, how he could have done it; but he has the gift."

"But suppose he had not come up with us, how would he have lived in these woods? It is a mercy that he has fallen in with us," said Captain Sinclair.

John slapped the barrel of his rifle, which was lying by him, and which Captain Sinclair had not perceived.

"You don't think that John would come into the woods without his rifle, sir, do you?" said Malachi.

"I did not perceive that he had it with him," said Captain Sinclair, "but I certainly ought to have known John better."

John having finished his supper, they all lay down to rest, one keeping watch that they might not be surprised.

At daylight they made their breakfast, and then went down again to the borders of the lake, where the trail had been lost. After a long examination, Malachi called the Strawberry, and pointing to the edge of the water, asked her to look there. The Strawberry did so, and at last decided that there was the mark of the bottom of a canoe which had been grounded.

"Yes, I thought so," said Malachi. "They have had their canoe all ready, and have crossed the water. Now, we must walk quite round the lake to discover the trail again, and that will give them half-a-day's start of us."

They immediately set off coasting the shores of the lake, until they arrived at the other side, carefully examining the ground as they went. This took them till noon, by which time they had arrived at that part of the lake which was opposite to the large rock behind which they had kindled their fire the night before; but no traces were to be perceived.

"They have not crossed over in a straight line," said Captain Sinclair, "that is evident; we must now try more to the northward."

This they did; and at last discovered that the canoe had crossed over to the north part of the lake, having coasted along the eastward shore the whole way. The spot of landing was very evident, and for some distance they could trace where the canoe had been hauled up. It was now late in the afternoon, and it became a question whether they should follow the trail or discover the place of concealment of the canoe, as it might be advantageous to know where it was when they returned. It was decided that they should first discover the canoe, and this was not done till after a search of two hours, when they found it concealed in the bushes, about one mile from the lake. They then followed the trail about two miles; the twigs had been bent and broken as before, which was a great help to them, but the night was now closing in. Having arrived at a clear knoll, they took up their quarters under the trees, and retired to rest. At daybreak they again started, and, after two hours' walk, had to track across a small prairie, which gave them some trouble, but they succeeded in finding the trail on their arrival at the wood on the opposite side and then they made a very rapid progress, for the twigs were now more frequently broken and bent than before. During this day, with the bow and arrows brought by the Strawberry, Martin had procured them two wild turkeys, which were very acceptable, as their provisions would not last more than seven or eight days longer, and it was impossible to say how far they would have to travel. It was not far from dark when the quick ears of the Strawberry were attracted by a noise like that of a person breathing heavily. She at last pointed with her finger to a bush; they advanced cautiously, and on the other side of it they found an Indian woman lying on the ground, bleeding profusely. They raised her up, and discovered that it was the Indian whom they had cured of the sprained ankle, and who, they presumed, had been then discovered breaking the twigs that they might follow the trail, for, on examination, they found that she had received a heavy blow on the head with a tomahawk; but, fortunately, it had glanced sideways, and not entered into the brain. She was not sensible, however, at the time that they discovered her, for she had lost a great deal of blood. They stopped the effusion of blood with bandages torn from their linen, and poured some water down her throat. It was now dark, and it was not possible to proceed any further that night. The Strawberry went into the woods and collected some herbs, with which she dressed the wound, and, having made the poor Indian as comfortable as they could, they again lay down to rest, but not until Malachi had said to Alfred—

"There is no doubt, sir, but that the Injuns have discovered this woman was marking the trail for us, and that they have tomahawked her for so doing, and have left her for dead. I think myself that the wound, although it is a very ugly one, is not dangerous, and so says the Strawberry. However, to-morrow will decide the point; if she is not sensible then, it will be of no use waiting, but we must go on as fast as we can."

When they awoke the next morning they found the Strawberry sitting by the Indian woman, who was now quite sensible and collected, although very weak and exhausted. Malachi and Martin went to her, and had a long conversation with her at intervals. Malachi had been right in his supposition; the Angry Snake had discovered her in the act of bending a twig, and had struck her down with his tomahawk. They gained from her the following information. The Angry Snake, irritated at the detention of the Young Otter, had resolved to have another hostage in lieu of him, and had carried off Mary Percival. He had six Indians with him, which were the whole of his grown-up warriors. They were now but one day's journey ahead of them, as Miss Percival was very sore on her feet, and they could not get her along, but that in every other respect she had been well treated. That the Indians were not going to their lodges in a direct course, but by a circuitous route, which would make a difference of at least six or seven days; and that they did this that they might not be seen by some other tribes who were located in their direct route, and who might give information. She said that it was she who had written the Indian letter which Malachi had received the autumn before, and that she had done it because she had been so kindly treated by Mr and Mrs Campbell, when she had been found in the forest with her ankle sprained. That Percival was at the Indian lodges, quite well when they left, and that if the Angry Snake did not receive a large quantity of powder and shot, and a great many rifles in exchange for him, it was his intention to adopt the boy, as he was very partial to him. On being asked if the boy was happy, she replied that he was not at first, but now he was almost an Indian; that he was seldom permitted to leave the lodges, and never unless accompanied by the Angry Snake. In answer to their questions as to the direction and distance to the lodges, she said that they were about seven days' journey by the straight road; but that the party with Miss Percival would not arrive there in less than fifteen days, if so soon, as she was every day less able to travel. Having obtained all this information, a council was held, and Malachi spoke first, having been requested so to do.

"My opinion is this," said Malachi, "that we can do no better than remain here at present, and wait till the woman is sufficiently recovered to travel, and shew us the direct road to the lodges. In two or three days she will probably be well enough to go with us, and then we will take the direct road, and be there before them. The knowledge of the place and the paths will enable us to lay an ambush for them, and to rescue the young lady without much danger to ourselves. They will have no idea of falling in with us, for they of course imagine the woman is dead; a tomahawk seldom fails."

After a long parley, the advice of Malachi was considered the most judicious, and a further conversation with the Indian woman confirmed them in the resolution. As they had no fear of the Indians discovering that they were on their trail, Martin and Alfred went out in pursuit of game for provisions, while the others raised up a large hut with branches of trees, for the accommodation of the whole party. In the evening Martin and Alfred returned, carrying a fine buck between them. The fire was lighted, and very soon all were busy cooking and eating. The Indian woman also begged for something to eat, and her recovery was now no longer considered doubtful.



CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

Percival transformed.

It was a great annoyance to Captain Sinclair to have to wait in this manner, but there was no help for it. He was satisfied that it was the most prudent course, and therefore raised no objection. Alfred too was uneasy at the delay, as he was aware how anxious his father and mother would be during the whole time of their absence. They were glad, however, to find that the Indian woman recovered rapidly, and on the fifth day of their taking up their abode in the forest, she said that she was able to travel if they walked slow. It was therefore agreed that on the sixth day they should start again, and they did so, having saved their salt provisions, that they might not be compelled to stop, or use their rifles to procure food. The evening before, they roasted as much venison as they thought they could consume while it was good, and at daylight again proceeded, not to follow the trail, but guided by the Indian woman, in a direct course for the lodges of the Indian band under the Angry Snake.

As they had now only to proceed as fast as they could without tiring the poor Indian woman, whose head was bound up, and who was still weak from loss of blood, they made a tolerable day's journey, and halted as before. Thus they continued their route till the sixth day, when as they drew up for the night, the Indian stated that they were only three or four miles from the Indians' lodges, which they sought. Thereupon a council was held as to how they should proceed, and at last it was agreed upon that they should be guided by the Indian woman to a spot where they might be concealed, as near as possible to the lodges, and that when the party had arrived there, that the woman and Malachi should go and reconnoitre, to ascertain whether the chief and his band with Mary Percival had returned or not. The night was passed very impatiently, and without sleep by most of them, so anxious were they for the morrow. Long before break of day they again started, advancing with great caution, and were led by the Indian till they were within one hundred and fifty yards of the lodges, in a thick cluster of young spruce, which completely secured them from discovery. Shortly afterwards Malachi and the Indian woman, creeping on all fours, disappeared in the surrounding brushwood, that they might, if possible, gain more intelligence from listening. In the meantime, the party had their eyes on the lodges, waiting to see who should come out as soon as the sun rose, for it was hardly clear daybreak when they arrived at their place of concealment.

They had remained there about half an hour, when they perceived an Indian lad come out of one of the lodges. He was dressed in leggings and Indian shirt of deer-skin, and carried in his hand his bow and arrows. An eagle's feather was stuck in his hair above the left ear, which marked him as the son of a chief.

"That's my brother Percival," said John in a low tone.

"Percival!" replied Alfred, "is it possible?"

"Yes," whispered the Strawberry, "it is Percival, but don't speak so loud."

"Well, they have turned him into a regular Indian," said Alfred; "we shall have to make a paleface of him again."

Percival, for he it was, looked round for some time, and at last perceiving a crow flying over his head, he drew his bow, and the arrow brought the bird down at his feet.

"A capital shot," said Captain Sinclair, "the boy has learnt something, at all events. You could not do that, John."

"No," replied John, "but they don't trust him with a rifle."

They waited some little time longer, when an Indian woman, and then an old man, came out, and in about a quarter of an hour afterwards, three more women and an Indian about twenty years old.

"I think we have the whole force now," said Martin.

"Yes, I think so too," replied Captain Sinclair. "I wish Malachi would come back, for I do not think he will find out more than we know ourselves."

In about half-an-hour afterwards, Malachi and the Indian woman returned; they had crept in the brushwood to within fifty yards of the lodges, but were afraid to go nearer, as the woman said that perhaps the dogs might give the alarm, for two of them were left at home. The woman stated her conviction that the party had not come back, and now a council was again held as to their proceedings. The Indian force was nothing—an old man, one lad of twenty, and four women. These might be easily captured and secured, but the question was whether it would be desirable so to do; as in case one should by any means escape, information of their arrival might be conveyed to the absent party, and induce them not to come home with Mary Percival. This question was debated in a low tone between Malachi, Captain Sinclair, and Alfred. At last John interrupted him by saying, "They are going out to hunt, the old and the young Indian and Percival—they have all their bows and arrows."

"The boy is right," said Malachi. "Well, I consider this to decide the question. We can now capture the men without the women knowing anything about it. They will not expect them home till the evening, and even if they do not come, they will not be surprised or alarmed; so now we had better let them go some way, and then follow them. If we secure them, we can then decide what to do about the women."

This was agreed upon, and Malachi explained their intentions to the Indian woman, who approved of them, but said, "The Old Raven" (referring to the old Indian) "is very cunning; you must be careful."