own, although it was at the imminent risk of awaking it.

An hour passed. She went to the door and looked out to see whether
Teddy was in sight; but the woods were as silent as if they contained
no living thing. Far away over the river, nearly opposite the Indian
village, she saw two canoes crossing the stream, resembling
ordinary-sized water-birds in the distance. These, so in harmony with
the lazy, sunshiny afternoon, were all that gave evidence that man had
ever invaded this solitude.

Cora Richter could but be cheerful, and, as she moved to and fro, she
sung a hymn, one that was always her husband's favorite. She sung it
unconsciously, from her very blithesomeness of spirits, not knowing
she was making music which the birds themselves might have envied.

All at once her ear caught the sound of a footstep, and confident that
Teddy had come, she turned her face toward the door to greet him. She
uttered a slight scream, as she saw, instead of the honest Hibernian,
the form of a towering, painted savage, glaring in upon her.

Ordinarily such a visitor would have occasioned her no surprise or
alarm. In fact, it was rare that a day passed without some Indian
visiting the cabin--either to consult with the missionary himself, or
merely to rest a few moments. Sometimes several called together, and
it often happened that they came while none but the wife was at home.
They were always treated kindly, and were respectful and pleased in
turn. During the nights in winter, when the storm howled through the
forest, a light burned at the missionary's window, and many a savage,
who belonged often to a distant tribe, had knocked at the door and
secured shelter until morning. Ordinarily we say, then, the visit of
an Indian gave the young wife no alarm.

But there was something in the appearance of this painted sinewy
savage that filled her with dread. There was a treacherous look in his
black eyes, and a sinister expression visible in spite of vermilion
and ocher, that made her shrink from him, as she would have shrunk
from some loathsome monster.

As the reader may have surmised, he was no other than Daffodil or
Mahogany, who had left Teddy on purpose to visit the cabin, while both
the servant and his master were absent. In spite of the precaution
used, he had taken more liquor than he intended; and, as a
consequence, was just in that reckless state of mind, when he would
have hesitated at no deed, however heinous. From a jovia