erved dignity with which the American aborigines are known
to yield to fate; and he stood apart, an attentive but calm observer of
what was passing. Jasper caused the cutter's sails to be filled, and the
_Scud_ resumed her course.

It was now getting near the hour to set the watch, and when it was usual
to retire for the night. Most of the party went below, leaving no one on
deck but Cap, the Sergeant, Jasper, and two of the crew. Arrowhead and
his wife also remained, the former standing aloof in proud reserve,
and the latter exhibiting, by her attitude and passiveness, the meek
humility that characterizes an Indian woman.

"You will find a place for your wife below, Arrowhead, where my daughter
will attend to her wants," said the Sergeant kindly, who was himself on
the point of quitting the deck; "yonder is a sail where you may sleep
yourself."

"I thank my father. The Tuscaroras are not poor. The woman will look for
my blankets in the canoe."

"As you wish, my friend. We think it necessary to detain you; but not
necessary to confine or to maltreat you. Send your squaw into the canoe
for the blankets and you may follow her yourself, and hand us up the
paddles. As there may be some sleepy heads in the _Scud_, Eau-douce,"
added the Sergeant in a lower tone, "it may be well to secure the
paddles."

Jasper assented, and Arrowhead and his wife, with whom resistance
appeared to be out of the question, silently complied with the
directions. A few expressions of sharp rebuke passed from the Indian
to his wife, while both were employed in the canoe, which the latter
received with submissive quiet, immediately repairing an error she had
made by laying aside the blanket she had taken and searching for another
that was more to her tyrant's mind.

"Come, bear a hand, Arrowhead," said the Sergeant, who stood on the
gunwale overlooking the movements of the two, which were proceeding too
slowly for the impatience of a drowsy man; "it is getting late; and we
soldiers have such a thing as reveille--early to bed and early to rise."

"Arrowhead is coming," was the answer, as the Tuscarora stepped towards
the head of his canoe.

One blow of his keen knife severed the rope which held the boat, and
then the cutter glanced ahead, leaving the light bubble of bark, which
instantly lost its way, almost stationary. So suddenly and dexterously
was this manoeuvre performed, that the canoe was on the lee quarter of
the _Scud_ before the Se