ait till you returned, to tell you all about it."

"Thanks, Mary--I shall never forget your kindness," said Glenn, as
much affected by her simplicity and gentleness as at the threatened
danger.

"You're a sweet lass; God bless you, Mary!" said Boone, kissing her
smooth forehead. "Now run home and go to sleep, child; we will be on
our guard. As for you, your father is respected by all the Indians,
and therefore your own safety will be best secured under his
protection."

"I will accompany you to the hut," said Glenn, as the girl bid them
good night, and was about departing.

"Oh no--I'm used to going alone," said Mary, promptly declining the
proposition.

"She speaks truly, and it is unnecessary," said Boone, as the maiden
bowed and disappeared.

The party then fastened the gate and secured themselves within the
stone house. Joe petitioned Glenn to permit him to bring in the dogs,
and Sneak seconded the motion, proposing to lie with them before the
fire.

After a hearty repast, Boone and Glenn retired to their couches in
quest of repose, so much needed after the exercises of the day. Nor
was it long before they were steeped in that deep and solemn slumber
which throws a mysterious veil over the senses, obscuring from the
vision all objects of an unpleasant nature, relieving the mind of the
cares that may have pressed heavily upon it during the day, and at the
same time by the gentlest process refreshing and reinvigorating the
weary faculties for renewed exertion.

Silence brooded over the fireside scene. The lamp threw a dim ray
around its small flame unruffled by the confined and motionless air.
The fawn was coiled in a sleeping posture under its master's bed,
while the kitten purred upon its velvet back. On one side of the
hearth lay Sneak, his head pillowed upon one of the hounds, while the
other slept against his back. Joe was the only one present who had not
fallen under the magic influence of slumber. Hitherto he had yielded
to a more powerful impulse--that of the appetite--and he now sat upon
a low stool on the corner of the hearth opposite to Sneak, his back
leaning against the side of the fireplace, holding in his left hand a
pewter platter, and in his right a rib of the deer he had killed, well
cooked, which he raised to his mouth occasionally, and sometimes at
very long intervals, between the approaches of the sleep which was
gradually overpowering him. Once, when his eyelids sank heavily and
close