ve
treasured him as a jewel from Thine own crown! O my God, let me but keep
my darling, keep him as Thy gift--and--and--O my God!--Thy--Thy--Thy
will be done!"

The words broke in a moan and the child began to cry.

"Hush, dearie! The birds never cry, nor the beavers, nor the great, bold
eagle! My own little warrior must never cry! All the birds and the
beasts and the warriors are asleep! What does Eric say before he goes to
sleep?"

A pair of chubby arms were flung about her neck and passionate, childish
kisses pressed her forehead and her cheeks and her lips. Then he slipped
to his knees and put his face in her lap.

"God bless my papa--and keep my mamma--and make little Eric brave and
good--for Jesus' sake----" the child hesitated.

"Amen," prompted the gentle voice of the mother.

"And keep little Eric for my mamma so she won't cry," added the child,
"for Jesus' sake--Amen," and he scrambled to his feet.

A low, piercing whistle cut the night air like the flight of an
arrow-shaft. It was Louis Laplante's signal that Diable and the squaw
were coming back. At the sound, mother and child started up in alarm.
Then they saw me standing in the open way. A gasp of fright came from
the white woman's lips. I could tell from her voice that she was all
a-tremble, and the little one began to whimper in a smothered,
suppressed way.

I whispered one word--"Miriam!"

With a faint cry of anguish, she leaped forward. "Is it you, Eric? O
Eric! is it you?" she asked.

"No--no, Miriam, not Eric, but Eric's friend, Rufus Gillespie."

She tottered as if I had struck her. I caught her in my arms and helped
her to the couch of robes.

Then I took up my station facing the tent entrance; for I realized the
significance of Laplante's warning.

"We have hunted for more than a year for you," I whispered, bending over
her, "but the Sioux murdered our messenger and the other you yourself
let out of the tent!"

"That--your messenger for me?" she asked in sheer amazement, proving
what I had suspected, that she was kept in ignorance of our efforts.

"I have been here for a week, searching the lodges. My horses are in the
valley, and we must dare all in one attempt."

"I have given my word I will not try," she hastily interrupted,
beginning to pluck at her red shawl in the frenzied way of delirious
fever patients. "If we are caught, they will torture us, torture the
child before my eyes. They treat him well now and leave me alone