The man, all this time, was limping and gesticulating on shore, imploring them to hurry, as his life stood in imminent danger every moment, and the whites, to their credit be it spoken, worked with a good will.
They had hardly commenced rowing, when Marian asked Peterson whether there was not another person upon the bank.
"It is a female, and see how motionless she stands! She is just below that man."
"Yes, I see her—she is waving her hands. Hark!"
"Keep off! keep off! You will all be killed! This man is a decoy!" called out the person alluded to in a beseeching voice.
"Who is she?" asked Marian, growing more excited every moment.
"Ah! she's the Frontier Angel. Haven't you heard of her? When she warns a white, he can depend on it she means what she says. This ain't the fust time she has done that thing."
The Frontier Angel.
"O Jim!" implored Marian, "this is awful; tell them before it is too late. They cannot but heed you."