“Since when were you enrolled among the prophets, Master Trench?”
“Since you uttered the previous sentence, Master Paul. I appeal to your own knowledge of history.”
“Nay, I question not your historical views, but your prophetical statements, as to the fate of this island. Have you not heard of this writing—that ‘the knowledge of the Lord shall cover the earth as the waters cover the sea?’ Does not that signify completeness in the spread of knowledge? And when that comes to pass, will it bear no good fruit? If not, why is it recorded as a blessed state of things to which we may look forward, and towards which we may strive? I admit that the wickedness of man may delay the desired end. Unjust laws, interference with freedom of action, hatred of truth, may check progress here as it has done elsewhere; but who can tell how soon the truth, as it is in Jesus, may begin to operate, or how rapidly it may culminate?”
“You may be right, Master Paul; I know not. Anyhow I withdraw my claim to be numbered with the prophets—all the more that I see Strongbow making signals which I don’t rightly understand.”
The Indian guide, who had been walking somewhat in advance of the party, was seen standing on the summit of a knoll making signals, not to his friends behind him, but apparently to some one in front. Hastening forward they soon found that he had discovered friends,—a body of Indians, who were hurrying to meet him; while down in the valley beyond, which suddenly burst upon their view, stood an extensive Indian village. It was of that evanescent and movable kind, which consists of cone-like tents made of skins and bark spread upon poles.
“They are friends,” said Strongbow, when Hendrick and the others reached him; “kinsmen of the murdered Little Beaver.”
“Friends of Hendrick also, I see,” said the captain to Paul, as the hunter hastened forward to meet the Indians and salute them.
He was right, and a few minutes’ conversation with his friends sufficed to put the guide in possession of all he wished to know. Returning to his companions, he at once relieved their minds, to some extent at least, by telling them that it was indeed the tribe into whose hands their old shipmates had fallen, and that the sailors were still alive and well, though prisoners, and lying under sentence of death.
“Come, that at all events is good news,” said Paul. “I thank God we are not too late, and I make no doubt that we will persuade the Indians to delay execution of the sentence till we find out whether or not they have been guilty of this murder. Some of our old shipmates I know are capable of it, but others are certainly innocent.”
Hendrick did not at once reply. It was evident from his looks that he had not much hope in the merciful disposition of the Indians.