the greatest importance. It's the Indian
way of writing, and I know also whom it comes from. A good action is
never lost, they say, and I am glad to find that there is some
gratitude in an Indian."

"You make me very impatient, Malachi, to know what it means; tell me
from whom do you think the letter comes?"

"Why, sir, do you see this mark here?" said Malachi, pointing to one of
the lowest down on the piece of bark.

"Yes; it is a foot, is it not?"

"Exactly, sir; now, do you know whom it comes from?"

"I can't say I do."

"Do you remember two winters back our picking up the Indian woman, and
carrying her to the house, and your father curing her sprained ankle?"

"Certainly; is it from her?"

"Yes, sir; and you recollect she said that she belonged to the band
which followed the Angry Snake."

"I remember it very well; but now, Malachi, read me the letter at once,
for I am very impatient to know what she can have to say."

"I will, Mr. Alfred; now, sir, there is the sun more than half up, which
with them points out it is the setting and not the rising sun; the
setting sun therefore means to the westward."

"Very good, that is plain, I think."

"There are twelve wigwams, that is, twelve days' journey for a warrior,
which the Indians reckon at about fifteen miles a day. How much does
fifteen times twelve make, sir?"

"One hundred and eighty, Malachi."

"Well, sir, then that is to say that it is one hundred and eighty miles
off, or thereabouts. Now, the first figure is a chief, for it has an
eagle's feather on the head of it, and the snake before it is his
_totem_, 'the Angry Snake,' and the other six are the number of the
band; and you observe, that the chief and the first figure of the six
have a gun in their hands, which is to inform us that they have only two
rifles among them."

"Very true; but what is that little figure following the chief with his
arms behind him?"

"There is the whole mystery of the letter, sir, without which it were
worth nothing. You perceive that little figure has a pair of snow-shoes
over it."

"Yes, I do."

"Well, that little figure is your brother Percival, whom we supposed to
be dead."

"Merciful heavens! is it possible?" exclaimed Alfred; "then he is
alive?"

"There is no doubt of it, sir," replied Malachi; "and now I will put the
whole letter together. Your brother Percival has been carried off by the
Angry Snake and his band, and has been taken to some place o