ed on. At night, collecting a supply of
birch-bark, as he had seen the Indians do, he built himself a wigwam.
Abundance of fuel was at hand, and, lighting his fire, he cooked some
provisions he had brought with him. After this, commending himself to
the care of Heaven, he lay down in his wigwam, and was soon fast asleep.
The following day he journeyed on in like manner. Clouds, however,
obscured the sky, and more than once he doubted whether he was
continuing in the right direction. The third day came, and he pushed
onwards, but before he encamped at night, he felt sure that he must have
diverged greatly from the right path. Still believing that he might
recover it the following day, he lay down to rest. His provisions,
however, ran somewhat short; indeed, he had miscalculated the amount he
should require. At length the fifth day came: his food was expended,
and he had to confess that he had entirely lost his path. The whole day
he wandered on, endeavouring to regain it. At last he got into what
appeared an Indian path. He followed it up, but in the end found that
it only led to a spot where an encampment had once stood--now deserted.
He had been suffering greatly from thirst, even more than from hunger.
To stay still might seal his fate. Onward, therefore, he pushed. At
length, however, from want of food and water, his strength failed him.
His sight grew dim, and, fainting, he fell on the ground. How long he
had lain there he knew not, when he heard a strange, deep-toned,
sonorous voice. Languidly he opened his eyes, and saw standing over him
a tall Indian, of dignified appearance and full costume of paint and
feathers.

"Who are you?" asked Wenlock, dreamily.

"I am Taminent, chief sachem of the red men of this country," answered
the Indian, who, stooping down as he spoke, raised him in his arms.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

The Indian chief, applying a leathern bottle to Wenlock's mouth, poured
some water down his throat. It greatly revived him.

"I see white skin want food," said the chief. Saying this, he produced
a cake of Indian corn, which Wenlock eagerly devoured.

"Now, come; I will take you with me," said Taminent, in more perfect
English than Wenlock had expected to hear; and, supporting him in his
arms, the chief led him along a path into which they quickly entered.
After going some distance, an open space amid the trees appeared, and
within it a collection of tall birch-bark wigwams of a