I found her friend Dora with her one day. She was certainly a very nice girl, although not equal to Lily by a long way, in my opinion. They inquired whether we had seen anything of Kepenau and his daughter Ashatea.
“They have not yet appeared,” I answered; “nor have we received any tidings of them.”
“Dora wants to make the acquaintance of a real Indian girl, fit to be a heroine,” said Lily, laughing. “She has hitherto only seen the wretched squaws who appear in the Eastern States. She can scarcely believe that Ashatea is the interesting creature I describe her.”
I said that I would try to communicate with Kepenau, if I could learn his whereabouts from any passing Indians.
“Oh do!” said Lily; “and let him understand how glad we shall be to see him and his daughter again.”
While we were talking Reuben came in, and offered to accompany me back to the hut. He, like me, had been very busy all the spring. He certainly did not look well suited for hard labour; but his face was more bronzed than heretofore, and he seemed perfectly well. Wishing the girls good-bye, we shouldered our guns, and commenced the walk to the hut. There was no risk of losing our way at this time, for the days were long, and there was a bright moon that evening.
Uncle Mark welcomed Reuben, whom he liked for his straightforward character and honesty.
“I am glad you have got such a companion as that young fellow,” he said to me. “When two harum-scarum fellows associate, they are sure to get into trouble; but you two will help each other out of difficulties, should you unexpectedly fall into them.”
Mike amused us that evening with a tune on his fiddle; and Quambo diverted us still more by a dance he performed to the music, which made Reuben, who was not addicted to laughing, almost split his sides.
We agreed to have a long ramble into the forest next day, my uncle giving me leave of absence. He could not spare Mike, but he allowed Quambo to accompany us.