"Take my hand, chief, and forgive my anger," said the trapper, kindly. "I was wrong to deal so harshly with prejudices taught at your mother's knee, and which are inherent with your very nature."
"That is right, uncle," said Edward. "Jane and I have long been under the impression that it is no way to eradicate prejudice by becoming angry with it. This," he added, addressing Sidney, "is quite as much for your benefit as any one's."
"There, the evil spirit is at work again!" said Jane, as a cutting retort fell from Sidney. "Come," she added, "I have not seen half enough of that wonderful room; let us return and give it a thorough exploration."
"No, no," said the chief, in alarm, "do not go, we have seen too much already."
"I shall go, and so shall Jane," said Sidney, decidedly, "you can return any moment you like; but your heathen prejudices shall never mar our pleasure."
"Oh, yes, chief," said Edward, kindly, "we must explore the cavern. If bad spirits preside there, they will not harm us; you need not go; we shall think none the less of you for returning."
"We are desirous to give this cave a thorough exploration, and while doing this, you get us some ducks for dinner," said the trapper. "We do not desire you to accompany us since you have such a great repugnance for doing so."
"Does the white chief think his brother is a coward, that he asks him to desert him in the hour of danger? If you go and rouse their anger, I go also to share your fate; though that be death!" So saying, the chief caught up some broken rocks with which the floor was scattered in one hand, and drawing his hunting knife in the other, cried out in a tone of desperation, "lead on; I am prepared for them!"
This last act of the chief of arming with missile and knife to fight invisible spirits was too much for Edward's risibility, and the consequence was a shout of laughter in which they all joined save the chief. The merry, mocking tones reverberated through the cavern, swelling and gathering strength from a thousand echoes that threw back the sound until it seemed as if a legion of demons were mocking them from every crevice and niche of the passage. They were silent for the moment, and glanced around them in terror. The superstition of the savage had not been without its influence, although reason refused to acknowledge it.
"You are not frightened at an echo, are you? why I believe you are all cowards, scared out of your wits at your shadows!" said Howe, in a subdued voice; for, in truth, he did not care himself to awaken the echoes needlessly.