“No,” said he, “let them wait.”
He held his darling by the hand until the river was passed—until the boat touched the bank—until the child sprang forward into the arms of the mother from whom she had been so long separated.
When the Chief witnessed that outburst of affection he could withstand no longer.
“She shall go,” said he. “The mother must have her child again. I will go back alone.”
With one silent gesture of farewell he turned and stepped on board the boat. No arguments or entreaties could induce him to remain at the council, but having gained the other side of the Niagara, he mounted his horse, and with his young men was soon lost in the depths of the forest.
After a sojourn of a few weeks at Niagara, Mr. Lytle, dreading lest the resolution of the Big-White-Man should give way, and measures be taken to deprive him once more of his child, came to the determination of again changing his place of abode. He therefore took the first opportunity of crossing Lake Erie with his family, and settled himself in the neighborhood of Detroit, where he continued afterward to reside.
Little Nelly saw her friend the Chief no more, but she never forgot him. To the day of her death she remembered with tenderness and gratitude her brother, the Big-White-Man, and her friends and playfellows among the Senecas.