to see that you are hurt, friend," he said. "Any of the
rest of your people wounded? If there are, and your party will come on
to our camp, we will render you all the assistance in our power."

"Only two of our men have been hit, and that but slightly; and my wound
is nothing," answered my father. "We are much obliged to you, however."

"Well, at all events I would advise you to harness your beasts and move
on, or these fellows will be coming back again," said the stranger. "We
too must not stay here long, for if they think that our camp is left
unguarded they may pay it a visit." His eye, as he was speaking, fell
on Clarice. "Why! my little maiden, were you not frightened at seeing
those fierce horsemen galloping up to your camp?" he asked.

"No," she answered simply; "I trusted in God, for I knew that he would
take care of us."

The stranger gazed at her with surprise, and said something which made
her look up.

"Why! don't you always trust in God?" she asked.

"I don't think much about him; and I don't suppose he thinks much about
such a wild fellow as I am," he said in a careless tone.

"I wish you would, then," she said; "nobody can be happy if they do not
trust in God and accept his offer of salvation, because they cannot feel
secure for a moment without his love and protection; and they will not
know where they are to go to when they die."

"I have not thought about that," said the stranger, in the same tone as
before; "and I do not suppose I am likely to find it out."

"Then let me give you a book," said Clarice, "which will tell you all
about it."

She went to the waggon, and brought out a small Bible.

"There! If you will read that, and do what it tells, you will become
wise and happy."

"Well, my dear, I will accept your book, and do as you advise me. I
once knew something about the Bible, before I left home, years and years
ago; but I have not looked into one since."

Without opening the book, the stranger placed it in his breast-pocket;
then, after exchanging a few words with my father, who promised to
follow his advice, he left the camp and rejoined his companions.

My father, being unable to ride without difficulty, had himself placed
in the waggon by the side of Clarice; and the animals being put to, we
once more moved on to the westward, while we saw our late visitors take
an easterly course.

My father, however, made but slow progress towards recovery; his wound
was more seri