She had been so unfortunate as to captivate the unprincipled commander of the Northwestern trading-posts, who had used every artifice to gain her young heart, and, it was well known, had long sought an opportunity to get her within his power. On the night of the ambush and attack by which her father lost his life, the quarters where she was left were also attacked, some of the women and children cruelly massacred, but her body and that of her nurse, or attendant—with whom she was provided, as daughter of the chief, according to the custom of the natives—were not to be found among the slain. Her people suspected they had been carried captive to the headquarters of the company.
The trapper was convinced that her brother, who escaped from the fatal affray, and was now chief in the place of his father, was preparing to make a vigorous effort to recapture her and avenge the death of the old chief. It would need little persuasion to bring all the natives friendly to his tribe to make common cause with him in such a conflict, and scenes of frightful bloodshed must ensue, the end of which could hardly be conjectured.
The question discussed with painful anxiety between the missionary and the trapper was, whether anything could be done to prevent this shocking result. To this end, a Christian brave of the village was summoned, and the subject of their conference explained to him.
"And now," said the reverend father, "if you know of any plans of this kind, or of any means by which their execution can be prevented, it is your duty, and I conjure you, to reveal them."
"The voice of our father is good," replied the Indian with great respect, "and, when he speaks for the Great Spirit, his words are strong; but would he make of his son a babbling woman? Who drew the knife? Was it the hand of thy children that dug up the hatchet? And shall they talk of peace when the blood of their chief and his men cries to them for vengeance. When the daughter of our nation is seized for the wigwam of him whose words filled the coverts with creeping foes to drink our blood, shall we give him our Bird of Heaven and say 'it is well'?"
"But if she could be recovered without the shedding of blood; if a council of the Indians on both sides could be called, that the truth of this matter might be fully revealed and understood, would it not be better than useless strife? The traders care not for your race. They care not if you fight until there is no one left of your tribes to tell the tale; and will you give them that satisfaction? They have set you against each other. They have deceived your brothers with lying words; and will you crown their lies with success? Above all, shall it be said that we have delivered the message of peace and the commands of the Great Spirit to his children of the wilderness in vain?"
"If he loves his children, why did he not smite their foes? The tongue of the pale-face is long; its words reach afar. They are sweet as honey, while his heart is full of poison. His arm is strong, and the knives in his camp are sharp. His coverts in the wilds are many, and past finding out. Who shall find and bring back our daughter, if we take not the war-path to the strong house of the pale chief?"
"I'll warrant ye I will!" exclaimed the trapper, unable to remain silent any longer. "I haven't wandered through this awfully mixed-up part of God's creation, where the woods and the waters, the mountains and the valleys, lay round in a permiscus jumble that'd puzzle a Philadelphy lawyer, for these twenty years, without sarchin' out as many hidin'-places as there's quills on a hedgehog. And to say that I've sojourned all that time among Injins of all sorts, on the freendliest tarms, and 'thout a hard word with any on 'em, drunk or sober, heathen or Christian, to be carcumvented by a pesky Britisher at last, is an idee that'd raise a Yankee's dander if anything would. No, no! Just you jine hands with me, and he'll find he's no match for Injins and a Yankee, or my name an't Hezekiah! We'll be too much for the 'tarnal sarpent!" And he fell into a series of low chuckles expressive of his foregone persuasion of victory.
"Enough!" said the Indian gravely. "The ear of the young chief shall be filled with the words of our father and the Big Foot, and his voice make reply." And he departed. The missionary requested the trapper to remain with him through the night and until the answer of the young chief should be made known.
TO BE CONCLUDED NEXT MONTH.