ces if she could."

This was uttered in a low tone, and with a meaning glance of the eye.

Joe hesitated again--could he trust her? Yes; the feelings that filled
her breast and prompted her words were not those of the Indian just
now--they were those of a _mother_, whose gratitude was too full for
utterance.

"Will the Dark Flower," said Joe, catching the name she had given
herself, "help the Pale-face if he opens his heart to her? Will she
risk the anger of her nation?"

"She will," replied the woman; "she will do what she can."

Joe and his dark friend now dropped their high-sounding style of speech,
and spoke for some minutes rapidly in an undertone. It was finally
arranged that on a given day, at a certain hour, the woman should take
the four horses down the shores of the lake to its lower end, as if she
were going for firewood, there cross the creek at the ford, and drive
them to the willow-bluff, and guard them till the hunters should arrive.

Having settled this, Joe returned to the tent and informed his comrades
of his success.

During the next three days Joe kept the Indians in good-humour by giving
them one or two trinkets, and speaking in glowing terms of the riches of
the white men, and the readiness with which they would part with them to
the savages if they would only make peace.

Meanwhile, during the dark hours of each night, Dick managed to abstract
small quantities of goods from their pack, in room of which he stuffed
in pieces of leather to keep up the size and appearance. The goods thus
taken out he concealed about his person, and went off with a careless
swagger to the outskirts of the village, with Crusoe at his heels.
Arrived there, he tied the goods in a small piece of deerskin, and gave
the bundle to the dog, with the injunction, "Take it yonder, pup."

Crusoe took it up at once, darted off at full speed with the bundle in
his mouth, down the shore of the lake towards the ford of the river, and
was soon lost to view. In this way, little by little, the goods were
conveyed by the faithful dog to the willow-bluff and left there, while
the stuffed pack still remained in safekeeping in the chief's tent.

Joe did not at first like the idea of thus sneaking off from the camp;
and more than once made strong efforts to induce San-it-sa-rish to let
him go, but even that chief's countenance was not so favourable as it
had been. It was clear that he could not make up his mind to let slip
so