ers.
Now, having fruitlessly exhausted every means of escape, as well as his
powers of pleading for his own life, he determined to meet his fate as
bravely as became a British soldier. With a rope about his neck, and a
face betraying no trace of the horror and despair that filled his soul,
he walked calmly through the jeering throng of spectators to the fatal
stake.

The rope was already made fast to it, and the signal for the first act
of the dreadful drama was about to be given, when a fair-haired girl,
mounted on a pony, dashed through the crowd, scattering it to right and
left. She severed the rope that bound the motionless captive to the
tree of death, and then, wheeling about, delivered, with flashing eyes
and bitter tongue, a harangue in the Indian language that caused her
hearers to hang their heads in shame. She termed them cowards for
visiting their vengeance on innocent and helpless captives, and
fearlessly bade them begone from her sight, ere she called down the
wrath of the Great Spirit on their heads.

As the abashed savages slunk away before the sting of her burning
words, the girl, trembling with excitement, slid from her pony's back
to the ground. Instantly the strong arm of him whom she had rescued
was offered for her support, and she was electrified by the sound of
her own name, which she had not heard for many months.

"I thank you, Edith Hester, for my life," said the young man, simply.

For a moment she stared at him bewildered. Then, with a flash of
recognition, she answered:--

"And I thank God that he has granted me the privilege of saving it,
James Christie."

When Edith was borne away captive by Mahng, the Ojibwa, he maliciously
told her of her father's death and that her brother had also been
killed by Pontiac's express order. Having burdened himself with this
prisoner, on the impulse of the moment, Mahng was soon embarrassed as
to how he should dispose of her. He dared not kill her, for he
contemplated seeking an alliance with the English. At the same time,
she proved a decided encumbrance on his rapid journeyings. Thus when
he discovered that the wife of Custaloga, a Shawnee chief, who had
recently lost her only daughter, was willing to adopt Edith in her
place, he gladly relinquished his fair prisoner.

Custaloga and his wife and his sons were so proud of the beautiful
white girl, whom they now claimed as daughter and sister, and treated
her with such unvarying kindness t