"It may be months before any Indian runner is found, and meanwhile my poor brother's fate may be sealed. Were it to cost my life, I should think myself bound to go; but I am the only one who can go in perfect safety, for, while promising his protection to me, and insuring me against all danger, the Black Eagle refused to give any assurance in regard to others. You have yourself acknowledged, my dear father, that I shall be perfectly safe; and I have also the advantage of speaking the Indian language well. In these circumstances, would it not be wrong--would it not be criminal--in me to remain here idle, when I have even a chance of saving my poor brother? Forgive me, then, if I do wrong, on account of the motives which lead me.
"My course is straight to the Mohawk, by the little pond and the lake, and then up the Mohawk and Wood Creek, as far as they will carry me; for, wishing to save myself as much fatigue as possible, I shall venture to take the canoe from the pond.
"I have asked Chando and Sister Bab to accompany me, as I know you would wish me to have protection and assistance on the way, in case of any difficulty. I hope to be back in six days at the furthest; and, if possible, I will send a runner to inform you of my safe arrival amongst the Oneidas.
"Once more, my dear father, think of the great object I have in view, and forgive your affectionate daughter."
When her letters were written, Edith dressed herself in a full Indian costume, which had been given her by Otaitsa; and a beautiful Indian maiden she looked, though the skin was somewhat too fair, and the hair wanted the jetty black. In the Indian pouch, or wallet, she placed some articles of European convenience, and a hunter's large knife. Then making up a small package of clothes for Sister Bab to carry, she descended to the lower story.
Here, however, she met with some impediments which she had not expected. The news of her proposed expedition had spread through the whole household, and caused almost an open revolt. The white women were in tears; old Agrippa was clamorous; and the fat black cook declared loudly that Miss Edith was mad and should not go. So far, indeed, did she carry her opposition, that the young lady was obliged to assume a stern and severe tone, which was seldom heard in Edith's voice, and command her to retire at once from her presence. The poor woman was instantly overawed, for her courage was not very permanent, and, bursting into tears, she left the room, declaring she was sure she should never see Miss Edith again.
Edith then gave all the keys of the house to old Agrippa, with the two letters which she had written. Chando took up the bag of provisions which he had prepared; Sister Bab charged herself with the packet of clothes, and Edith, walking between them, turned away from her father's house, amidst the tears of the white women, and a vociferous burst of grief from the negroes.
Her own heart sank for a moment, and she asked herself,--
"Shall I ever pass that threshold again? Shall I ever be pressed hereafter in the arms of those I so much love?"
But she banished such feelings, and drove away such thoughts; and murmuring,--