"Whar's the cap'n?" demanded Kit, who had been engaged in hauling the barge out of the water, and concealing it in the bushes.
"Who are you?" replied Corporal Flint, as the tall hunter loomed up before him.
"I don't reckon it makes any matter who I am; but I want to see the cap'n, and show him whar the redskins is."
"Lieutenant Pope commands the troops, and he will be very glad to know where the redskins are."
"My father is with him; do let us make haste," said Ella, dragging me by the hand in the direction of the next post of the soldiers.
"We will escort you, miss," added the corporal, ordering his squad to march.
Our walk was enlivened by the frequent challenge of the sentinels posted along the bank of the river. One half of the troops were watching the stream, while the other half slept. In a short time we reached the bivouac of the commanding officer. As we approached, I recognized the form of Mr. Gracewood, who was walking back and forth near the party asleep on the ground.
"Here she is, Mr. Gracewood!" I shouted, while the soldiers were going through their military forms, for they were very precise in all these matters.
The unhappy father halted, and Ella dragged me towards him, impatient to heal the wounded heart. He seemed to be unable to comprehend the meaning of my words; but as soon as he saw her in the gloom of the forest, he rushed forward and clasped her in his arms. I heard them sob in each other's embrace, and while the tears started in my own eyes, I had an all-sufficient reward for the peril and labor I had incurred in restoring her.
"Why, Ella, I can hardly believe it is you," said he, his voice tremulous with emotion.