ds; an' would a come
arter me to my own cabin, if it hadn't been for the dogs, that wud tar
an Injun to pieces. She war afeerd o' them but not o' me, no matter how
I thraitened her. I war so angry wi' her, for what had happened--though
arter all, 'twar more my fault than hern--but I war so vexed wi' her
about the ill-luck, that I used to keep out o' her way as well as I
could, an' didn't speak to her for a long time. She got riled 'bout
that, an' thraitened revenge; an' one night, as I war comin' from
Swampville, 'bout this time--only 'twar as dark as a pot o' pitch--I war
jest ridin' out into this very gleed, when all o' a suddint my ole hoss
gin a jump forrard, an I feeled somethin' prick me from behind. 'Twar
the stab o' some sort o' a knife, that cut me a leetle above the hip,
an' made me bleed like a buck. I know'd who did it; tho' not that
night--for it war so dark among the bushes, I couldn't see a steim. But
I kim back in the mornin', and seed tracks. They war the tracks o' a
mocassin. I know'd 'em to be hern."

"Su-wa-nee's tracks?"

"Sartin. I know'd 'em well enough, as I'd often seed her tracks through
the crik bottom."

"Did you take no steps to punish her?"

"Well--no--I didn't."

"How is that? I think it would have been prudent of you to have done
something--if only to prevent a recurrence of the danger."

"Well, stranger! to tell truth, I war a leetle ashamed o' the whole
bisness. Had it been a man, I'd a punished _him_; but they _do_ say the
girl's in love wi' me, arter her Injun way; an' I didn't like to be
revengeful. Besides it war mostly my own fault: I had no bisness to a
fooled wi' her."

"And you think she will not trouble you again?"

"I don know about that, arter what's happened the night. She's gone
away thraitnin' agin. I did think she'd gin up the notion o' revenge:
for she know'd I'd found out that 'twar her that stabbed me. I told her
so, the next time I seed her; an' she 'peared pleased 'bout my not
havin' her ta'en up. She said it war generous of the White Eagle--
that's the name her people gies me--for thar's a gang o' them still
livin' down the crik. She gin me a sort of promise she wouldn't trouble
me agin; but I warn't sure o' her. That's the reezun, stranger, I
didn't want ye to go fur away."

"I think it would be prudent in you to keep well on your guard. This
redskin appears to be rather an unreflecting damsel; and, from what you
have told me, a dange