the destroyer of his son; and he turned away from
the two youthful suppliants, whose silent eloquence he felt he could
not long resist.

'Your father killed my young Tekoa,' he replied. 'His fire weapon
quenched the light of my lodge, and took from me the support of my old
age. Should I have pity on his son?'

'But let him dwell in our lodge, and fill my brother's vacant place!'
exclaimed Oriana. 'Do not send him back to the white men; and his
father, and his mother, and his little sister will still weep for him,
and believe him dead.'

The same idea had crossed Tisquantum's breast. He looked again at the
boy, and thought how much Oriana's life would be cheered by such a
companion. His desire of revenge on Rodolph would also be gratified by
detaining his child, and bringing him up as an Indian, so long as his
parents believed that he had met with a bloody death; and, possibly, he
felt a time might come when the possession of an English captive might
prove advantageous to himself and his tribe. All fear of the boy's
escaping to his friends was removed from his mind; for he was about to
retire from that part of the country to a wild district far to the
west, and to join his allies, the Pequodees, in a hunting expedition to
some distant prairies. The portion of his tribe over which he was
Sachem, or chief, was willing to accompany him; and he had no intention
of returning again to the neighborhood of the English intruders, who,
he clearly foresaw, would ere long make themselves masters of the soil;
and who had already secured to themselves such powerful allies in the
Wampanoges--the enemies and rivals of the Nausetts.

Tisquantum weighed all these considerations in his mind; and he
resolved to spare the life of his young captive. But he would not at
once announce that he had relented from his bloody purpose, and yielded
to his child's solicitations. He therefore maintained the severe
gravity that usually marked his countenance, and replied--

'But what can the white boy do, that he should fill the place of an
Indian chieftain's son? Can he cast the spear, or draw the bow, or
wrestle with our brave youths?'

Reviving hope had filled the heart of Henrich with courage, and he
looked boldly up into the Sachem's face, and merely answered, 'Try me.'

The brevity and the calmness of the reply pleased the red Chief, and he
determined to take him at his word.

'I will,' he said. 'To-morrow you shall show what skill you p