"By G—!" cried the squire, "here is a mistake; the Indian thinks to take Rosa with him. My dear boy," continued he to Hodges, "run as quick as you can to Colonel Parker, and bring a party of men. Bayonets are the only things these savages respect. Rosa, say no more to him, he is getting wild."
A change had taken place in the Indian, although it was one which only a keen observer could detect. He began to have an inkling that Rosa was to be taken from him, and his gloomy inanimate physiognomy betrayed a restless agitation, which alarmed the major.
"The White Rose," resumed Tokeah, after a while, "is a dutiful daughter. She will cook her father's venison."
"That would I willingly do for the father of my Canondah," said the young girl; "but a higher duty calls me. Father of my Canondah! Rosa has come to take leave of thee."
The Indian listened attentively.
"Miko," continued the maiden, "the father who gave me life, is found. Rosa must hasten to him who for fourteen years has wept and sought her."
"Tokeah gave Rosa her life; he saved her from the tomahawk of Milimach; he paid with skins for the milk she drank."
"But Rosa has another father who is nearer to her, whom the Great Spirit bestowed upon her; to him must she go. I must leave you, Miko," said she, with increased firmness of manner.
Upon the countenance of the Indian all the bad passions of his nature were legible. The scales had at last fallen from his eyes; but even now his cold and terrible calmness did not desert him, although the violence of the storm raging within showed itself in the play of his features and the variation of his complexion.
"Miko," said the squire, who foresaw an approaching outburst of fury—"Miko, you heard the words of the great warrior of the palefaces?"