tion, than on his disposition to
serve her.

The Indians had, however, no sooner deprived the captives of their arms
and ammunition, and stripped them of a few articles of dress of little
use, and perhaps of less value, than they appeared disposed to grant
them a respite. Business of greater moment pressed on their hands,
and required their attention. Another consultation of the chiefs was
convened, and it was apparent, by the earnest and vehement manner of the
few who spoke, that the warriors conceived their success as yet to be
far from complete.

"It will be well," whispered the trapper, who knew enough of the
language he heard to comprehend perfectly the subject of the discussion,
"if the travellers who lie near the willow brake are not awoke out of
their sleep by a visit from these miscreants. They are too cunning to
believe that a woman of the 'pale-faces' is to be found so far from the
settlements, without having a white man's inventions and comforts at
hand."

"If they will carry the tribe of wandering Ishmael to the Rocky
Mountains," said the young bee-hunter, laughing in his vexation with a
sort of bitter merriment, "I may forgive the rascals."

"Paul! Paul!" exclaimed his companion in a tone of reproach, "you forget
all! Think of the dreadful consequences!"

"Ay, it was thinking of what you call consequences, Ellen, that
prevented me from putting the matter, at once, to yonder red-devil, and
making it a real knock-down and drag-out! Old trapper, the sin of this
cowardly business lies on your shoulders! But it is no more than your
daily calling, I reckon, to take men, as well as beasts, in snares."

"I implore you, Paul, to be calm--to be patient."

"Well, since it is your wish, Ellen," returned the youth, endeavouring
to swallow his spleen, "I will make the trial; though, as you ought
to know, it is part of the religion of a Kentuckian to fret himself a
little at a mischance."

"I fear your friends in the other bottom will not escape the eyes of
the imps!" continued the trapper, as coolly as though he had not heard a
syllable of the intervening discourse. "They scent plunder; and it would
be as hard to drive a hound from his game, as to throw the varmints from
its trail."

"Is there nothing to be done?" asked Ellen, in an imploring manner,
which proved the sincerity of her concern.

"It would be an easy matter to call out, in so loud a voice as to make
old Ishmael dream that the wolves were among