“And they are loving and cherishing my Lily?”
“Yes,” I replied; “and there is no being an earth I love so well.”
For some minutes the hunter was silent, but I saw that he was much agitated. At length he asked, in a low voice, “Have you ever heard your uncle or mother speak of a brother, who came over to America with them?”
“Yes!” I answered, “I was named after him. They both cherish his memory, and I know that Uncle Denis much blames himself for his conduct towards him, and would give all he possesses to see him again.”
“Are you speaking the truth?” asked the hunter.
“Indeed I am, why should I do otherwise?” I answered, a suspicion rising in my mind of who he was. “Are you my Uncle Michael?” I asked, looking in his face. “I am nearly certain that you are, and if so, I am confident that my father and mother will rejoice if you will return to them, and Lily too; she must be your daughter.”
In spite of my anxiety to get well, the winter snows had melted, and the trees were once more budding before my long-lost uncle and I were able to set forward on our journey. By means of Kluko he had taken care to let my family know of my progress towards recovery, but strange as it may appear, he had not informed them who he was, being anxious to do so, I suspect, personally. Kluko had also taken charge of his bales of skins and peltries; and the wigwam which had so long served as our abode was left for the benefit of any person who might choose to take possession of it.
The hunter, for so I will still call him, was unusually nervous as we approached “Smiling Valley.” We were nearly in sight of the farm, when we saw my father approaching. I threw myself from my horse and after our first greetings were over, I introduced the hunter, as he had desired me to do, as the person who had been the means of saving my life.
“Now go forward, Mike,” he said, for so he had taken to call me; “your friends at home will be longing to see you. I will follow with your father.”
I bounded on, and was soon receiving the joyous welcomings of the loved ones from whom I had been so long parted, while the Dominie almost wrung my hand off, as he congratulated me on my return. Uncle Denis had been absent shooting, but he at that moment came in. I was burning to tell them who the stranger was, but having been forbidden to do so, I restrained myself. In a short time, however, my father and his companion arrived. Uncle Denis gazed at the latter for a few seconds.