Having with his war-cry eased his heart in a measure of the surplus joy and triumph he felt at their deliverance, Big Black Burl could now content himself to go for a mile or more without speaking a word. He failed not, however, to steal from time to time a prying glance at their deliverer from over his master's shoulder. At the first glance nothing in particular struck his mind, excepting that he thought the red stranger was a wondrously handsome and gallant-looking man for an Indian. At the second glance a fancy began to steal into his thoughts that at some time of his life he had had a dream in which he had seen such a form and face as that he now had before his eyes. At the third glance it began to dawn upon him that he had not only dreamed of seeing but really had seen that man before. At last, having fairly succeeded in cornering a dodging, skipping sprite of a recollection which he had been chasing about in his memory for the last ten minutes, Mish-mugwa, in open-eyed amazement, brought himself along-side Shekee-thepatee, to whose ear bending down he exclaimed in a big whisper, "Kumshy!" Reynolds started. A vague something of the sort had been flitting before his mind ever since the stranger's sudden appearance at the dismal scene in the dingle. During the many years that had come and gone since that eventful first of June, he and Burl had often talked of the good and brave young Indian warrior who had shown himself so gentle and true a friend to the forlorn little captive in his hour of peril and need. In brightest remembrance had they held him ever since, coupling every mention of his name with some expression of gratitude or admiration, or with the mutual remembrance of some pleasant incident of his sojourn among them. Yes, though changed from the bright-eyed, graceful youth they had known him, they felt in their hearts that their deliverer could be none other than their old friend Kumshakah. But who was Kumshakah? Without opening his lips to speak a word, or turning his head to glance behind him, silently, swiftly glided the Indian on before them, straight against the setting sun. At length, late in the day, after traversing the forest for some miles, they came to the head of a quiet little dell which, scooped out smoothly from among the hills, descended without a curve to the valley of the Thames. Here the chieftain halted, and pointing before him, his bright eyes turned now full and clear upon them, said in English, "Your friends."