Poor Tom! his fate seemed sealed. The Indian chief, who on account of his relationship was considered the fitting instrument for accomplishing the sacrifice, took his stand at the distance of a hundred feet from the tree to which Tom was bound, and raised his rifle.
Tom closed his eyes, and with an unspoken prayer, commended his soul to God, when a most surprising incident startled all who were looking on.
The Indian boy rose suddenly to his feet, flung off the blanket in which he was wrapped, and rushing to the tree, flung his arms around Tom, with a loud cry.
His father dropped the rifle with which he was about to act the part of executioner, and gazed as if spell-bound upon the two boys.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE INDIANS ADOPT TOM.
NOT LESS powerful was the effect produced upon the Indian warriors by this unexpected action of the sick boy.
They gazed upon him almost in stupefaction. Then they began to murmur expressions of wonder, not unmingled with awe. To their superstitious minds it seemed like a direct interposition of God in Tom’s favor. And who shall say that it was not so? Who shall say that the kindly and compassionate impulse which led Miantonimo to Tom’s rescue was not God’s work?
New hope sprang up in Tom’s heart as he felt the arms of the Indian boy closely encircling him. He knew that Miantonimo was the chief’s son, and likely to prove a powerful intercessor. He would have returned the embrace if he could, but his arms were pinioned, or failing that, have thanked him warmly, but he knew the Indian boy could not understand him.
“Miantonimo!” he said, softly, and his eyes were full of gratitude, which the boy chief could understand.