or a white
chief, as he may wish. The warriors are near,--the day grows bright;
he must speak quickly."

There was a call from the group by the fire, and the young Indian gave
a little start, and slowly rising, walked away, yielding his place as
guard to an older man. Menard rolled over and pressed his face to the
ground as if weary; he could then watch the youth through the grass as
he moved to the fire, but in a moment he lost sight of him. The new
guard was a stern-faced brave, and his appearance promised no help; so
the Captain, having done all that could be done at the moment, tried
to get another sleep, struggling to put thoughts of the maid from his
mind. Perhaps, after all, she was safe at the village.

Meantime the youth, after a long struggle with the temptings of the
bad doctor, yielded to his superstition, and sought the Long Arrow,
who lay on the green bank of the stream. In a few moments the story
was told, and the chief, with a calm face but with twinkling eyes,
came to the prisoner and stood looking down at him.

"The White Chief is glad to be with his Onondaga brothers?" he said in
his quiet voice.

Menard slowly raised his eyes, and looked coolly at the chief without
replying.

"The tongue of the Big Buffalo is weary perhaps? It has moved so many
times to tell the Onondaga what is not true, that now it asks for
rest. The Long Arrow is kind. He will not seek to move it again. For
another sleep it shall lie at rest; then it may be that our braves
shall find a way to stir it."

Menard rolled over, with an expression of contempt, and closed his
eyes.

"The Long Arrow was sorry that his white brother was disappointed at
the torture. Perhaps he will have better fortune after he has slept
again. Already have the fires been lighted that shall warm the heart
of the White Chief. And he shall have friends to brighten him. His
squaw, too, shall feel the glow of the roaring fire, and the gentle
hands of the Onondaga warriors, who do not forget the deaths of their
own blood."

Menard lay still.

"Another sleep, my brother, and the great White Chief who speaks with
the voice of Onontio shall be with his friends. He shall hear the
sweet voice of his young squaw through the smoke that shall be her
garment. He shall hear the prayers of his holy Father by his side, and
shall know that his spirit is safe with the Great Spirit who is not
strong enough to give him his life when the Long Arrow takes it
away."