Here I lay, and intently listened and watched. A few moments and an almost inaudible ripple was heard, and the canoe was opposite. I exercised the most extreme caution, and was fortunate enough to obtain a perfect view of each of the occupants. They were the same--the dark, malignant faces of the savages, and the fair features of the captive. She sat in the stern, her hand resting gently upon a guiding oar, and her gaze fixed upon the stream in front. The canoe floated with the current, and not a paddle was stirred, nor the least motion made by the beings before me. The headdress of the captive was, as mentioned before, eagle feathers and porcupine quills, while the dark, waving masses of hair hung low upon the shoulders, contrasting with the whiteness of the face. A heavy crimson shawl enveloped the form, as when first seen. The features were regular, and, perhaps, in my state of feeling, their beauty was considerably enhanced; but the thought came upon me that if there were anything supernatural in my experience, it was in seeing such wonderful beauty as was now before me. Unconsciously I forgot myself as the canoe was gliding past, and before I was aware, it was hid from view by intervening obstacles. I withdrew hastily, intending to hurry farther down, where the view would be more complete. I had taken but a step or two when Nat’s rifle was discharged, and I heard distinctly a muffled sound of his voice. Wild with agitation, I dashed to the spot where I supposed him to be. The view of the river at this point was clear, and I turned to look at the canoe. It had vanished! I looked around for Nat, but he too, was gone. I called him, and once thought I heard a faint answer. But it was not repeated, and I could not tell its direction. I reached the ground, and beheld _the tracks of others beside his own_. I awaited until near night, but Nathan Todd was never to return. CHAPTER VII. ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS. “Where’s your friend?” There was apprehension in the question of the trapper, or he would not have called Nat, as he had never called him before. The question was asked, too, the instant I appeared. “I cannot tell,” I answered, seating myself gloomily. “Whar’d you leave him?” “I cannot answer that either. He went with me to watch the river, as you remember. Espying that canoe which you saw yesterday, he concealed himself a few yards distant, in order to obtain a better view of it. Since then I have seen nothing of him.” “Was it he who shot?” “It sounded like his gun, although I am not positive that it really was.” “I heerd it, an’ took it for him; and, shoot me, if I didn’t know he’d get into some scrape.” “I fear he has, and the last one, too.” “My thoughts ’zactly. Luckily you did not, too.” “I came nearer than I wish to again, Biddon. I can tell you, that I am willing to leave this place as soon as you wish; I’ve seen enough to satisfy me.” “Shouldn’t wonder; I did long ago.” “Let us leave to-morrow. Are you willing?”