LITMIR.BIZ

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eastern direction, I think."

      "Does you know Oonomoo?"

      Hans Vanderbum asked the question in a lower tone, for the name was well known to all present.

      "A Huron Indian? Oh, yes; I know him well," replied the captive; her countenance lighting up. "He was well remembered in our neighborhood, and was a true friend to us all. Do you know him too? Though I suppose of course you do, from your asking me the question."

      "Yaw, I knows him, and he knows me too, and we both knows each oder, so dat we are acquainted. Well, dat shentleman is hid off in de woods near here, and he has sent me in to l'arn what I cans about you."

      The prisoner kept back the joyful exclamation that came to her lips, and said:

      "Tell him that I am unharmed and hopeful, and trust that while he interests himself in me, he will not run into danger."

      "Not run into danger!" repeated Hans Vanderbum; "dat is what Oonomoo lives on. He'd die in a week if he wan't into danger, out of grief. He don't do notting else; it's what he was made for," he added, growing enthusiastic in speaking of the Huron.

      "I know he is a brave and true-hearted Indian, and is greatly esteemed by the Moravian missionaries. He hesitates at no risk when his friends are in danger."

      "Ef he does run risk dey don't catch him, 'cause he knows how to run and fight, and ish shmarter dan de Shawnees. Where ish your parents?"

      "My mother and sister happened to be absent on a visit to Falsington, which is fifteen or twenty miles distant from our place, while father, who is a Captain, is doing service somewhere on the frontier, in the American army. How thankful indeed I am that dear mother and Helen were away, for they have escaped this terrible captivity."

      "You washn't left all alone?"

      "Oh, no; there were several servants, and I saw them tomahawked, and heard their piercing cries."

      The captive covered her face, and her frame shook like an aspen at the remembrance of the dreadful scenes through which she had so recently passed. It was several minutes before she recovered her self-command. When she did, Hans Vanderbum proceeded with his questions.

      "Dey burnt de place, I shpose?"

      "Yes, yes; they destroyed everything."

      "I shpose your folks will feel bad when dey finds dese Shawnees have got you, won't dey?"

      "Oh, yes, yes; do not speak of it."

      At this point Hans Vanderbum began to get a sort of dim, vague idea that his style of conversation was not exactly calculated to soothe the feelings of the unfortunate prisoner; so he determined, if possible, to make amends for it. Patting her on the head, he said, gently:

      "Don't feel bad, my darling; I ish shorry for you, but I wants to ax you anoder question."

      "What is it?" queried the maid, with a wondering look.

      "Will you answer it?" asked Hans Vanderbum, endeavoring to put on an arch, quizzical expression.

      "If it is in my power I instantly will. Pray, do not hesitate to ask me anything you choose."

      "Well, den, gits ready for it. I would shust like to know if dere ishn't some feller dat is in love mit you, and you is in love mit, and dat both ish in love mit each oder, eh?"

      The crimson that suffused the cheeks and mounted to the very forehead of the captive, answered the question of Hans Vanderbum more plainly than words. Still, he insisted upon a verbal reply.

      "There is no need of concealing the truth from you," she answered. "I have a dear young friend—"

      "Who ish he?"

      "Lieutenant Canfield, who is in service with my father," she replied.

      "Oh, den he don't know notting about it?"

      "I am not sure of that. Oonomoo has acted as a runner or bearer of messages between many of the men in the American army and their families, upon the frontier, and the last time I saw him he brought me word that Lieutenant Canfield intended shortly to visit me on furlough. He may have arrived immediately after the Indians burnt our place."

      "A good t'ing; a good t'ing if he only has."

      "Why would it be a good thing?"

      "Does he know Oonomoo?"

      "Certainly; he has known him for several years."

      "Well, den, dey will come together, and dey'll fix up fings so dat dey will got you out of dis place afore long."

      "I hope so; I hope so. Death would not be more terrible than the suffering I undergo here, especially at night. Oh! will you not stay by me?" asked the prisoner, the tears starting to her eyes.

      Hans Vanderbum gouged his fists into his own visual organs, and muttered something about "de dunderin' shmoke," before he could reply.

      "Yesh, yesh, I 'tends to you. You needn't be 'fraid. Dey won't hurt you, I doesn't t'ink. Dey jist keeps you. May be dey burns you, but dat ain't sartain. I must go to Oonomoo now, for I've been away from him a good long while."

      "Tell him I am hopeful."

      "Ain't dere notting else to tell him?" asked Hans Vanderbum, still lingering.

      "I know of nothing else. He certainly needs no advice from me."

      "Notting to send to Lieutenant Canfield, eh?" again queried Hans.

      "Tell Oonomoo," said the girl, looking down to the earth, "that if he meets Lieutenant Canfield to say the same thing to him for me, that I am waiting and hopeful, and have a good friend constantly by me, which lightens, in a great measure, the gloom of my captivity."

      "Who ish dat friend?"

      "You."

      "Yaw, I tells him. Good-by; be a good gal till I comes back. I bees back burty soon."

      So saying, Hans passed out of the wigwam on his way to return to Oonomoo. His prolonged conversation with Miss Prescott had attracted the attention of the Indians who were lingering outside, and several asked him its purport. To these he invariably replied, "she didn't know wheder it was going for to rain or not, but she fought it would do one or toder."

      From his long residence among the Shawnees and his family connection with them, Hans Vanderbum was not suspected of disaffection. Indeed, it could not properly be said that he felt thus toward them. He would not willingly do anything to injure them any more than he would have fought against his own race. Had he been dwelling among the whites, he would have befriended any hapless prisoner that might be in their power as he intended to befriend the poor girl with whom he had just been conversing.

      It was about noon when he reached his own wigwam. He looked in, and seeing that the fish had been cooked and was ready, told his wife that he didn't feel very hungry and he guessed he would take a short walk for his health. She, however, ordered him at once to take his place inside and eat his dinner. The henpecked husband dared not refuse, and he was accordingly compelled to take part in the meal, while constantly occupied in thinking that the Huron was waiting for him; but, as patience is one of the cardinal virtues of the North American Indian, Hans was sure of finding him at the rendezvous upon his return.

      Some twenty minutes later, Hans Vanderbum was at the tree, where he had first caught sight of Oonomoo. It was not long before the latter came from his concealment, and, after exchanging words upon unimportant subjects, for the purpose of concealing his curiosity, he inquired in regard to Miss Prescott.

      "She tells me to tell you dat she's dere, and is hopeful, and ain't hurt, and hopes you won't hurt yourself to git her away."

      "Oonomoo won't hurt his self—Shawnee won't hurt Oonomoo—he git gal away too."

      "Oh, I like for to forgot. She tells me 'bout Lieutenant Canfield de same as she tells you. Will you see him?"

      "See him dis mornin'—waitin'

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