“Biddon told me he felt a little nervous when he saw us start to come up to him, for, if we had reached him, it would have been all up with us. He called out to us, though we did not hear him, that there were more animals in the grove, and our approach would frighten them. The impatient Indians were thus held at bay, in the hope of being offered a better opportunity to accomplish our ruin, until it was too late to accomplish anything save the loss of two or three of their number. Such a man, I repeat, will scent danger soon enough without the help of others.” “He will, and I hope he’ll find out who that white girl is.” “Nat, do you remember the account Biddon gave some time ago of a horrible massacre, upon the sandy island near where we encamped one night?” “I don’t think there is much likelihood of my ever forgetting it.” “You will also recall his account of the capture of a small child by the savages? Now, it has occurred to me that this is that child grown to womanhood.” “I _know_ it is!” exclaimed Nat, joyously. “It is true there is much against it. It was a great distance from here, but as these savages wander hundreds of miles at times, it is not improbable, upon that ground. Instances are only too common of persons spending their lives in captivity among these Indian tribes. She is a captive, beyond a doubt, and must long for restoration to her home and friends. If possible, I am bound to know more of her.” “So am I!” exclaimed my excitable companion. “As I said, we will say nothing of this to Biddon, until he discovers signs of Indians himself. To-morrow, we will go forth together, and spend the day in endeavoring to gain traces of the canoe and its inmates; and if anything is discovered which is alarming, we will impart it to him.” This Nat agreed to, and shortly after we heard three raps upon the outside of the tree--the trapper’s signal of his presence. A moment after, he made his appearance. He was considerably elated at his prospect for a goodly quantity of furs; had set a number of traps; was sure of half a dozen next day; had seen no signs of Indians, and was convinced there were none in the vicinity. None of us passed out again that day, but remained indulging in our pipes and conversation as usual, until a late hour. The next morning the trapper proposed that I should accompany him upon his daily round. I complied, while Nat remained behind. The day was as warm and pleasant as the preceding one, and the forest and stream as delightful. Biddon paddled slowly up the unrippled surface, and in a short time reached the first trap; it had not been disturbed. Still hopeful, he passed on to the second and third and all the others. But there were no signs of beaver in any. “Shoot me, that’s quar’!” he exclaimed, thoughtfully, as he saw the last one. “I don’t understand it; I must git out and take a look round.”