lent woman, who leaped up and
ran to a wigwam. In speechless fear, the child had scrambled to its feet
and backed away from the angry group towards the ferns; but the light
was fitful and shadowy, and we could recognize neither woman, nor child.

"I can't stand this any longer," I declared. "I must know if that's
Miriam. Let's draw closer."

Father Holland and I crawled stealthily to the very border of fern
growth, Louis and the Indian lying still and muttering over some plan of
action.

"Hist," said the priest, "we'll try the child."

Unlike naked Indian children, the little thing had a loose garment
banded about its waist; but its feet were bare and its hair as raven
black as that of any young savage. It stood like some woodland elf in
the maze of heavy sleepiness, at each harsh word from the camp, sidling
shyly closer to our hiding-place. We dragged forward till I could have
touched the child, but feared to startle it.

Putting his hand out slowly, Father Holland caught the little creature's
arm. It gave a start, jerked back and looked in mute wonderment at our
strange hiding-place.

"Pretty boy," crooned the priest in low, coaxing tones, gently
tightening his hold.

"Is it white?" I whispered.

"I can't see."

"Good little man," he went on, slowly folding his hands about it.
Drawing quickly back, he lifted the child completely into his arms.

"Is boy sleepy?" he asked.

"Call him 'Eric,'" I urged.

"Is Eric sleepy?"

The child's head fell wearily against the priest's shoulder. Snuggling
closer, he lisped back in perfect English, "Eric's tired."

At once Father Holland's free hand caught my arm as if he feared I might
rush out. For a moment neither of us spoke.

Then he said, "Give me your coat."

I ripped off my buckskin-smock. Wrapping the sleeping boy about, the
priest laid him gently among the ferns.

"Where's the mother?" asked Father Holland with a catching intake of
breath.

I pointed to the wigwam. The big squaw had come out, leaving Miriam
alone and was engaged in noisy dispute with the men. Louis and Little
Fellow had now wriggled abreast of us.

"Ha, ha, _mon brave_--your time, it come now! You save the white woman!
I pay my devoirs to the lady, ha, ha--I owe her much--I pay you both
back with one stroke, one grand stroke. Little Fellow, he watch for
spring surprise and help us both! Swoop--snitch--snatch--snap her up!
'Tis done--tra-la!" and Louis drew up for all the world like a