HE CAUSE OF HIS HATRED AND OF THE TERROR HE
INSPIRED.

Quite like a little fury, Little Wolf burst into her own private
apartment. Locking the door, she stopped suddenly and stamped, in a
paroxism of grief and vexation.

"A drunkard's child!" she said scornfully "Disgrace!--I hate
everybody!--I wish I'd shot myself!--I wish I was dead!--I wish
father--" she did not finish the sentence; a loud knock at the door
interrupted her.

"Who's there?" she asked.

"Me," said Sorrel Top.

"Go away," said her young mistress, imperatively.

"Mammy sent me," said Sorrel Top, "the Doctor is dying."

"O, God!" exclaimed Little Wolf, in an agony, "I have got my wish."

Trembling violently, she descended to the parlor and found her father
stretched out on the sofa in an apoplectic fit. Wild and reckless as
her words had been, Little Wolf would not for the world have seen her
wishes fulfilled, and she was spared the remorse, which under the
peculiar circumstances, her father's death would have occasioned.

Not having perceived how completely her information respecting Bloody
Jim, had brought her father to his senses, she little dreamed that,
while she was giving orders to mammy, he was in another part of the
house inspecting the fastenings of the doors and shutters. Finding all
secure, he returned to the parlor, in order to learn the particulars
of her meeting with the being, whose very name had created such
terror and dismay throughout the household. Observing young Sherman
and Dr. Goodrich, he attempted to address them, but suddenly lost the
power of speech.

It was many hours before Dr. Goodrich dared give any encouragement of
his recovery to his almost distracted daughter. All night long, she
watched, with the young physician and Edward, by his bedside.

Daddy and others, kept a bright look out for the enemy; but he had
been too badly wounded, to attempt any further violence that night.

For reasons unknown to any except the parties concerned, Dr. DeWolf
had, in the person of Bloody Jim, a revengeful and deadly enemy. He
belonged to the Red River half-breeds. Several years before, while a
company of his people were encamped in the vicinity of St. Paul, on
the upper Mississippi, for the purpose of trafficking with the
whites, Dr. DeWolf had paid them a chance visit.

As some alleviation to the insupportable loneliness, which the recent
death of his wife occasioned, he accepted the invitation, of his
friend and fi