As I stood wondering and waiting, the gray light of morning commenced appearing through the forest, and shortly the day dawned. A moment after, as I was about to awaken Imogene, the awful scream was repeated, seemingly directly across the river. It was different from a human voice, but sounded like the cry of a wild animal in extremity of the direst agony. As if our terror was still too faint, we now heard the loud ring of a _bell_, apparently from the very forest. “What is that?” asked Imogene, pale with horror. “Heaven knows!” I answered. “Sounds like the old bell up in Lubec,” remarked Nat; who, singularly enough, was the least agitated. “Listen!” whispered Imogene, raising her hand. Now was heard a dead sound like the distant heave of the stormy sea, growing stronger and nearer each second, and at intervals that wild, unearthly shriek reverberated through the forest arches with a horrid power. Matters were now assuming such an inexplicable form I began to fear I was losing my senses. I looked around upon the faces of others; but no--it was all a terrible reality. “Look!” spoke Imogene, in a husky whisper, pointing down the river. I did look and what was seen? There, just rounding the curve of the Yellowstone below us, burst the broad flaming hull of a steamboat. For a moment I could scarce believe my senses. Nat was the first to recover himself. “I knowed what it was all the time, by gracious! Hilloa, you!” The latter exclamation was addressed in vociferous tones to the steamboat; and, fearing lest he might still escape notice, he sprang into the water and waved his plumes excitedly over his head, yelling at the top of his voice all the time. We had been seen, however, and heeded by those on the boat. A small bell tinkled, and instantly the huge wheel of the steamer reversed, plowing the water into foamy waves, and quickly bringing it to a stand still. The captain then stepped from his wheelhouse and hailed us: “What’s wanted?” “Supper and lodging,” answered Nat. “Who are you?” “White men of course.” “White men; I see only one, and you’re an Injin, sure as I’m Captain Garbold.” I now stepped forward from the shelter of the forest, to which I had instinctively retreated with the trembling Imogene, upon the appearance of the boat. “Ah! who are those?” called the captain, instantly. “We are whites, as you can readily see, and only ask to be taken to our friends.” The captain immediately turned and spoke to several beside him. A few minutes afterward a small boat put out from the steamer, and Imogene, followed by myself, stepped into the boat, but Nat lingered. [Illustration: “Hilloa, you!”] “Come, hurry, Nat, don’t keep them waiting,” said I. “_I’m going to remain!_” he remarked, quietly. “What do you mean?” I asked, in astonishment. He approached, and whispered in my ear: “_I’m going to hunt up Irene Merment!_” “Why----”