"Nothing can be rash, nothing can be a sin," answered Otaitsa, "which can save a life innocent, and good, and noble. I would not willingly offend my sister, but my heart is open to God, and He will judge me in mercy, seeing my motives. And now, dear sister, sit you here, and I will send you food, such as we poor Indians eat. I myself may be away for a time, for there must be no delay; but I will return as soon as possible, and you shall know all that is done before you go. Do these blacks who are with you understand the Indian tongue?"
"One of them certainly does," replied Edith; "that is to say, the language of the Mohawks."
"'Tis the same," answered Otaitsa, "or nearly the same. We may have altered a little, but amongst the Five Nations, he who speaks one tongue understands all. Is it the man or woman--and can we trust?"
"It is the man," answered Edith, "and I do believe he can be trusted."
"Then I go," answered Otaitsa, and leaving Edith, she descended to the room below, and then issued forth amongst the Indian huts, gliding from one to another, and stopping generally for a few moments at those lodges before which was to be seen a high pole bearing the ghastly trophies with which the Indians signalized the death of an enemy.
Edith, in the meanwhile, remained for some time in sad meditation, until her eyes turned toward the sketches hanging round the room. On one in particular the reflected light from the surface of the lake streamed as it passed from the window, and Edith, going near, examined it attentively. It represented the head of a young man, apparently from seven and twenty to thirty years of age, and was done well, though not exactly in a masterly manner. It was merely in pencil, but highly finished, and there seemed something in it very familiar to Edith's eye. The features were generally like those of her brother Walter, so like that at first she imagined the drawing must be intended to represent his head; but the nearer view showed that it was that of a much older man, and the dress was one long gone out of fashion.
She was still gazing, and puzzling herself with the questions of whence these drawings could come, and whether they could be Otaitsa's own productions, when several Indian women entered, with their silent and noiseless tread, and placed some carved bowls, filled with different kinds of food, before her. It was all very simple, but she was much exhausted, for she had tasted nothing from an early hour of the day, and the refreshment was grateful to her. The women spoke to her, too, in the Iroquois tongue, and their sweet, low-toned voices, murmuring in the sort of sing-song of the tribes, was pleasant to her ear. It spoke of companionship. Their words, too, were kind and friendly, and she gathered from them that Otaitsa, in order to veil the real object of her coming, had been making inquiries as to whether anyone had seen Walter Prevost. They assured Edith that they had not seen him, that he could not have come into the Oneida country, or someone in the Castle must have heard of him. A paleface amongst them was very rare, they said, but the coming of Walter Prevost, whom so many knew and loved much, must have been noised abroad immediately. They said that his absence from his home was certainly strange, but added, laughing, that young warriors would wander, as Edith would discover when she was old enough.
Thus they sat and talked with her, lighting a lamp in a bowl, till Otaitsa returned, and then they left the two friends alone together.
Otaitsa was agitated, evidently, though she tried hard to hide, if not to suppress her emotions under Indian calmness; but her agitation was evidently joyful. She laid her lovely small hand upon Edith's and pressed it warmly.
"I have found friends," she said, "and those who will work for me and with me. My father's sister, who knew and loved my mother, and who is supposed by some to have a charm from the Great Spirit, to make men love and reverence her; the wife of the sachem of the Bear; the young bride of the Running Deer; and the wife of the Gray Wolf, as well as the wife of Lynx Foot, and many others; all these have vowed to help me, whatever it may cost. They all know him, my sister; they all have called him brother; and they are all resolute that their brother shall not die. But I must first work for him myself, dear Edith," she continued; and then, clasping her hands together, with a burst of joy at the hope lighted up in her young, warm heart, she exclaimed: "Oh, that I could save him all by myself--that I might buy him from his bonds by my own acts alone--aye, or even by my own blood! Huah! huah! That were joyful indeed!"