I do not think the affair
so settled as that, or we should hear the vagabond Mingos yelling out
their triumph around the blockhouse. Of one thing we may be sartain; if
the inimy has really got the better, he will not be long in calling
upon us to surrender. The squaw will let him into the secret of our
situation; and, as they well know the place cannot be fired by daylight,
so long as Killdeer continues to desarve his reputation, you may depend
on it that they will not be backward in making their attempt while
darkness helps them."

"Surely I hear a groan!"

"'Tis fancy, Mabel; when the mind gets to be skeary, especially a
woman's mind, she often concaits things that have no reality. I've known
them that imagined there was truth in dreams."

"Nay, I am _not_ deceived; there is surely one below, and in pain."

Pathfinder was compelled to own that the quick senses of Mabel had not
deceived her. He cautioned her, however, to repress her feelings; and
reminded her that the savages were in the practice of resorting to every
artifice to attain their ends, and that nothing was more likely
than that the groans were feigned with a view to lure them from the
blockhouse, or, at least, to induce them to open the door.

"No, no, no!" said Mabel hurriedly; "there is no artifice in those
sounds, and they come from anguish of body, if not of spirit. They are
fearfully natural."

"Well, we shall soon know whether a friend is there or not. Hide the
light again, Mabel, and I will speak the person from a loop."

Not a little precaution was necessary, according to Pathfinder's
judgment and experience, in performing even this simple act; for he had
known the careless slain by their want of proper attention to what might
have seemed to the ignorant supererogatory means of safety. He did not
place his mouth to the loop itself, but so near it that he could be
heard without raising his voice, and the same precaution was observed as
regards his ear.

"Who is below?" Pathfinder demanded, when his arrangements were made
to his mind. "Is any one in suffering? If a friend, speak boldly, and
depend on our aid."

"Pathfinder!" answered a voice that both Mabel and the person addressed
at once knew to be the Sergeant's,--"Pathfinder, in the name of God,
tell me what has become of my daughter."

"Father, I am here, unhurt, safe! and oh that I could think the same of
you!"

The ejaculation of thanksgiving that followed was distinctly audible