appeared again in the forest, and there was no human being left at
liberty to tell the frightful story of the Indians' fate, excepting the
Indian that made good his retreat.

The seasons rolled around, Autumn had again hung out her flag of many
colors, and Nelly Murphrey, under the fond care of her mother, had grown
to be a beautiful little girl, with her auburn hair drooping fondly in
ringlets upon her shoulders, and appeared in all the beauty of
innocence.

Whilst the mother was seated at her door, playing with little Nelly, she
raised her eyes and saw a tall, stately Indian standing before her at a
respectful distance. As soon as her eyes rested upon the Indian, she
recognized him as being one of the band that stole her child. As Nelly
saw him she screamed and flew back into the house. The sudden scream
seemed to freeze her mother's blood, and she sat as immovable as a
statue. The Indian stood perfectly quiet, without coming nearer. When
she had recovered, he said he would not harm her nor her child; but she
must tell him who brought back her child. She told him she found the
child in the edge of the woods the next morning, and supposed that he
had returned it. He then told her he had not, and she must find out who
it was and let him know when he came around again. The mother watched
the Indian until he disappeared in the forest, and then stealing away
slyly in the opposite direction, and by taking a circuitous route, soon
reached Mayall's cottage, and told Mayall that one of the same Indians
that had stolen her Nelly had been at her house, trying to find out who
brought her back. "I told him where I found her, and thought he had got
tired of her and brought her back." Mayall then told her to go into his
cottage and remain there with his wife and children until he returned.
Taking good care to keep the doors securely bolted, and the axe in the
house to use if they were molested, Mayall then took down his gun,
prepared some cartridges, put on his belt, with his tomahawk and knife
depending from it, and hanging by his side, and left the cottage.

Night came, but the hunter did not return. There was no moon, but the
stars shone forth in tranquil loveliness as the night wore away. About
midnight they heard a noise outside and near the cottage, and they crept
cautiously to the window, which was nearly as high as one's head, but
not of sufficient size to admit a common sized man, and looked
cautiously out, and Mayall's c