nterest, "that pale face was swifter
than any runner among the red skins, and for his fleetness he deserved
to live to be a great hunter in the Canadas; but fear broke his
heart,--fear of the friend of the Ottawa chief. The red skins saw him
fall at the feet of the Saganaw without life, and they saw the young
warriors bear him off in their arms. Is not the Ottawa right?" The
Indian paused, threw his eye rapidly along the room, and then, fixing
it on the governor, seemed to wait with deep but suppressed interest
for his reply.

"Peace to the bones of a brave warrior!" seriously and evasively
returned the governor: "the pale face is no longer in the land of the
Canadas, and the young warriors of the Saganaw are sorry for his loss;
but what would the Ottawa say of the bridge? and what has the pale
warrior, the friend of the Ottawa, to do with it?"

A gleam of satisfaction pervaded the countenance of the Indian, as he
eagerly bent his ear to receive the assurance that the fugitive was no
more; but when allusion was again made to the strange warrior, his brow
became overcast, and he replied with mingled haughtiness and anger,--

"Does my father ask? He has dogs of spies among the settlers of the
pale flag, but the tomahawk of the red skins will find them out, and
they shall perish even as the Saganaw themselves. Two nights ago, when
the warriors of the Ottawas were returning from their scout upon the
common, they heard the voice of Onondato, the great wolf-dog of the
friend of the Ottawa chief. The voice came from the bridge where the
Saganaw killed his young warrior, and it called upon the red skins for
assistance. My young men gave their war cry, and ran like wild deer to
destroy the enemies of their chief; but when they came, the spies had
fled, and the voice of Onondato was low and weak as that of a new fawn;
and when the warriors came to the other end of the bridge, they found
the pale chief lying across the road and covered over with blood. They
thought he was dead, and their cry was terrible; for the pale warrior
is a great chief, and the Ottawas love him; but when they looked again,
they saw that the blood was the blood of Onondato, whose throat the
spies of the Saganaw had cut, that he might not hunt them and give them
to the tomahawk of the red skins."

Frequent glances, expressive of their deep interest in the announcement
of this intelligence, passed between the governor and his officers. It
was clear the par