iced this singular
occurrence.

"Oonomoo," he whispered, placing his hand upon his arm, "there's a
person behind the bush, and we are in danger. I saw him this very
minute."

"Me see'd 'em," said the Indian, walking straight toward the spot where
he was concealed.

This was too much for the young man. When he reflected that, in all
probability a rifle-barrel was leveled through those bushes, ready to
do its deadly work, he was not ashamed to halt and allow the Huron to
proceed alone. But, no fear seemed to enter the head of the Indian.
He strode straight forward, as if he had discovered something which he
was about to pick, and, reaching the bushes, he parted and stepped
among them. The astonished soldier saw him stoop and lift some dark
object, and then throw it down upon the ground again.

Lieutenant Canfield now came forward. Great was his amazement to
recognize, in this dark object, the negro, Cato! He lay upon his face,
as lax and motionless as a piece of inanimate matter.

"What is the matter with him?" asked the soldier. "Is he dead?"

"Scart near to def'--make b'lieve dead."

Such undoubtedly was the case. The negro, frightened at the appearance
of two strangers, the foremost of whom he recognized as an Indian, had
prostrated himself behind the bushes and feigned death in the hope that
they would pass him by unnoticed. The Lieutenant, now that they were
so close to the Shawnees, where so much caution and skill were
required, felt provoked to see the negro, and had little patience with
his fooleries.

"Get up, Cato," said he, rolling him over with his foot. "You are not
hurt, and we don't want to see any of your nonsense."

One of the negro's eyes partially opened, and then he commenced
yawning, stretching and shoving his feet over the leaves, as though he
was just awaking.

"Hebens, golly! but dis nigger is sleepy," said he. "Hello! dat you,
Oonomoo? And bress my soul, if dar ain't Massa Canfield," he added,
rising to his feet.

"How came you here?" asked Canfield.

"Come here my pussonal self--walked and runn'd most ob de way."

"But, we sent you to the settlement. Why did you not go?"

"Bress your soul, Massa Canfield, I'll bet dar's ten fousand million
Injines in de wood, atween us and de settlement. I tried to butt my
way trough dem, but dar was a few too many, and I had to gub it up."

"How came you to wander so far out of your way as to get here?"

"Dunno; t'ought I'd tak