"Scarcely five minutes later we approached a dense portion of the forest, in which we feared were some of the Indians. Fred had assumed the leadership before this, and he told me to stay where I was until he could go forward and learn whether it would do to pick our way through that part of the wood, or whether it was necessary to go around."
"Well? well?" asked Maggie, seeing that her father hesitated.
"My boy went forward to reconnoiter—and he didn't come back."
"O, father!" wailed Maggie, "what became of him?"
"You can guess as well as I: there were Indians in there, as I learned immediately after, and one of several things may have happened to him. He may have found himself involved in such a network of danger that he was forced to lie still, not daring to withdraw until night; he may have been compelled to go out by another route, or he——"
"May have been captured and killed."
Maggie's eyes were fixed yearningly upon the face of her parent, as she finished his remark in a tremulous whisper.
"It may have been so," he added, gravely, "but we cannot be certain. Fred is very active, cool, self-possessed, and daring, and I shall not give up hope so long as this uncertainty exists."
Maggie Brainerd attempted to speak, but failed. The human heart at such a time reaches the limit of endurance, and she drew her shawl closer about her, though the afternoon was warm, and the exertion of traveling was great.
She had no covering on her head, but, like Eva, her wealth of luxuriant tresses, as fine as the golden floss on the ripening corn, flowed down and over her shapely shoulders.