age
found voice to speak a few words.

"Hold! you strike the white man's friend!"

The excellent English startled Kent, and he relaxed his hold.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Pequanon, the white man's friend."

"What did you come nosin' out here fur then?"

Kent's knees were upon the arms of the Indian, while he was seated upon
his breast. The hunter loosed his grasp.

"The pale-faced maiden. Pequanon wished to save her."

"Wal, see here, old red-skin, I'm after her. You's sayin' as how you's
her friend. Mind to help?"

The Indian answered in the affirmative.

"Wal, I'll let you up, pervidin' you'll go and bring her out. What you
say?"

"Is it her friends that wish her?"

"You've hit it there. Goin' to help?"

"Pequanon will lay his life down for the captive."

"I'll let you up then, and give you two minutes to trot her out. If you
undertake to come any of your tricks over me, I'll blow your brains
out."

Kent permitted Pequanon to arise, who departed silently for the lodge
without giving a reply to his remark.

The hunter was not to be deceived by any artifice of the savage, and to
guard against treachery, withdrew still further from the lodge. He
doubted very much whether the Indian would endeavor to assist him at
all, but he had done the best he could under the circumstances.

In a moment his doubts were put to flight by the reappearance of the
noble Indian, with Rosalind. As cool and collected as was the hunter, he
could not repress a joyous start as he gazed upon her form.

"That's the fust Injin, accordin' to my opine," he muttered to himself,
"that ever _was_ a man."

Rosalind, all trembling eagerness and anxiety, on coming up to Kent,
seemed unable to speak. The hunter noticed her action and forbore
speaking, making a motion, as an apology, for silence. For a second the
trio remained motionless and undetermined what course to pursue.
Pequanon noticed this and started toward the river.

"Hold on, cap'n!" said Kent; "there's another chap that come with me."

The hunter now took the lead; and leaving them hopefully pursuing their
way, let us glance at Leslie until they arrive.

Chafing, fretting, hoping, fearing and doubting sat Leslie, impatiently
awaiting the appearance of Kent. The falling of a leaf, or rustling of
the branches under some light breeze startled him; and when a
night-bird, that had been resting above him gave utterance to its
unearthly hoot, and swooped past, its voic