If the party in the boat were surprised at the singular conduct of Wahena, the Indians on shore were still more astonished; but he spoke a language which they could understand, and they sullenly resumed their march down the river.
The captive was now treated as a friend. Though he could not have known what the contract between his father and the voyagers had been, except so far as he had learned it from the subsequent events, he had voluntarily surrendered himself, and insisted upon seeing Fanny conveyed to a place of safety. Almost every day while they had been on the island, she had sung her sweet songs to Wahena, and he had listened to them with rapt attention. As the boat slowly went its way, he begged her by signs to sing, and she complied. He expressed his pleasure, which was shared by Ethan and Rattleshag, by the most eloquent signs.
During the day, Ethan and Rattleshag slept, while Fanny steered the boat. Wahena, no longer in bonds, kept close to her. He intimated in his dumb language that he wanted to take the helm, and gently took the tiller from her. He was soon proficient in steering, for there was now nothing to do but keep the boat in the middle of the river, and occasionally to trim the sail.
At night Fanny and Wahena went to sleep again, and the management of the boat was divided between Ethan and the trapper. The next morning the bateau had entered the Big Woods, and the sail was nearly useless, for the forest obstructed the wind, and the voyagers were mainly dependent upon the current of the river for the little progress they made; but on the afternoon of the third day of the journey, they came in sight of a town, which Rattleshag said was not more than twelve miles from Mankato. The Indian escort then hailed the boat.
"No go more," said the spokesman.
"I reckon 'twon't be safe for 'em to go any further," added Rattleshag.
Fanny ran the boat up to the shore, and Ethan, always dreading the treachery of the savages, kept his gun and revolver in readiness for immediate use. The time had come for Wahena to take leave of the party. He was profoundly affected at the thought of bidding adieu to Fanny; he did not appear to like Ethan or the trapper. He pressed her hand, looked very sad, and made his demonstrative gestures. She kissed him on the cheek, pointed up to the sky, and laid her hands upon his head. If she could have spoken to him, she would have expressed the wish that he would abandon the savage life of his people, and become a true man; and she would have been glad to teach him the religion of the Saviour, now so dear to her, and to show him how to hope and have.
Wahena turned slowly and sadly away from her, and walked to the Indians who were waiting for him. A stout fellow lifted him on the horse in front of him, and dashed away; but Fanny could see him trying to obtain a last view of her, as the savages entered the forest. She missed him very much as the boat continued on her course. The Indian boy was much attached to her, and she found herself much interested in him. She has not seen him since they parted, and probably they never will meet again in this world; but her blessing will go with him, and perhaps her gentle influence will soften his savage nature, and be reflected in his kindness to the white people with whom he may come in contact.
At sundown the bateau passed into the Minnesota, and at dark the party landed at Mankato, only three miles below the mouth of the Blue Earth, on which the last part of the voyage had been made.
We need not say that the party found plenty of warm friends; for when it was known that they were fugitives from the Indian massacre, every house and every heart was open to them. Troops in large numbers had gone forward for the suppression of the insurrection, and confidence was in a great measure restored. The place was full of people who had escaped, and the savages were being captured and sent hither for trial.