y
branches under their own feet, or their murmured conversation. It was
at least six hours since they left the house of the Knight, and the
distance passed over could not be less than eighteen or twenty miles.
The three stopped, and, before parting, it seemed that the Knight was
desirous of impressing more strongly on the mind of his red companion
something which he had already been urging.

"Has what I have said sunk into the ears of Mesandowit?" he asked.

"It has sunk very deep, even as a stone when it falls into the great
salt lake."

"Will he remember the place?"

"He will remember it. Mesandowit once took two scalps there."

Self-possessed as in general was Sir Christopher, the reply startled
him; but the association in the mind of the savage was too obvious to
excite alarm long, and it was without feeling any he replied. He
thought proper, however, to remind the Indian of the friendly relation
he stood in to his tribe and of the favor he had done them.

"The Sagamore and his Paniese," he said, "who brought the defiance of
the Taranteens to the English, have returned safe to their people. Let
not the Taranteens forget when I come to visit them that they spoke
through my mouth, and that I stood between them and the anger of
sachem Winthrop."

The Taranteens never forget. Mesandowit will tell them how Soog-u-gest
flew to Shawmut, when Mesandowit, of the swift foot, brought a message
from the sachems of the Taranteens, that they desired him to take care
of the two warriors who brought the red arrows tied up with a snake
skin as a present to Owanux. The Taranteens are a great people and
forget not a benefit."

"I am unable to fix the exact time;" said the Knight; "but the young
moon that looks now like the eye brow of Mesandowit, will probably not
be round before we shall meet again."

They parted at these words, and while Sir Christopher and Philip
turned their faces homeward, the Taranteen pursued the same direction
in which they had been traveling. Fatigued with the distance they had
come, it was now with a more leisurely pace the two proceeded, and,
walking for the most part in silence, the sun had risen before they
reached home.

CHAPTER XVIII.

When shaws beene sheene and shrads full fayre,
And leaves both large and longe,
Itt is merrye walking in the faire forrest,
To hear the small birdes songe.

BALLAD OF ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBORNE.

The project of Governor Winthro