k a small stream, which pursued a short distance, brought
them directly upon the village for which they had been searching.

The advent of the Indian and missionary among them created
considerable stir, but they were treated with respect and
consideration. Harvey Richter asked immediately for the chief or
leading man, and shortly stood in his presence. He found him a short,
thick-set half-breed, whose age must have been well-nigh three-score
years, and who, to his astonishment, was unable to speak English,
although many of his subjects spoke it quite intelligibly. He
understood Sioux, however, and the missionary's companion acted as
interpreter.

Our friend made a full statement of his wife's abduction, years
before, and of the assertion of the dying man that she had been taken
from him by members of this tribe, who had retained her ever since.
The chief waited sometime before replying; he seemed debating with
himself as to the proper course to pursue. Finally he said he must
consult with one of his warriors, and departed abruptly from the
lodge.

Ten minutes later, while the missionary, with a painfully-throbbing
heart, was gazing around the lodge, with that minute scrutiny of the
most trifling objects peculiar to us at such times, he caught the
sound of returning footsteps, and turned to the lodge door. There
stood the Indian, and, directly beside him, his own lost Cora!

The next day at noon, a camp-fire might have been seen some miles
south of the northern village of which we have made mention. An Indian
was engaged in cooking a piece of meat, while the missionary and his
reclaimed jewel, sitting side by side, her head reclining upon his
shoulder and his hand dallying with her hair, were holding delightful
communion. She looked pale and somewhat emaciated, for these years of
absence had indeed been fraught with suffering; but the old sweet look
had never departed. It was now changed into an expression of perfect
joy.

The wife's great anxiety was to reach home and see the child she had
left an infant, but who was now a frolicksome boy, and she could
hardly consent to pause even when night overtook them, and her
lagging limbs told her husband how exhausted she had become. Cora
never had suspected the identity of the Indian and the hunter, until
on that sad day when he sprung from behind the cabin and hurried her
off into the wood. There was something, however, in his look, when he
first felt the weight of her