“I think not; but they might do worse. I am told that the head chief designs taking you into his family.”
“I have heard that white persons have sometimes been adopted by Indians.”
“To speak plainly, he intends to adopt you as his wife.”
“May God preserve me from such a fate! What shall I do, Mr. Wilder? Save me, and I will pray for you as long as I live! Tell me what can be done.”
“You can do nothing, at present, but return to the village. You must leave the rest to me, and I do not know what I shall do; but you may be certain that I will do all that a man can do. Here comes the Indian to take you back.”
White Shield approached, and signified to Flora that the interview had lasted long enough, and that she must return to the village. She accompanied him, and Wilder, by the direction of his friend, went to his lodge, where he passed a sleepless night in trying to devise a plan to release her from her captivity.
When the day broke, he had hit upon nothing that seemed to promise success, and he walked out, in the hope that the morning air would give him inspiration. In the course of his walk, he came to the conclusion that, if he was to accomplish any thing, it must be with the assistance of White Shield, and he resolved to throw himself upon the mercy of the Indian.
When White Shield entered the lodge that morning, he found Wilder seated on the ground, with his head buried in his hands, his attitude and countenance denoting the deepest dejection.
“I am in great trouble,” he said, in answer to a question from the Indian. “My heart is very sore.”
“Let my brother tell me his trouble. Perhaps I can help him.”