“Poor girl!” said Rolfe, “she will never see her home again; doomed, perhaps, to the torture, or else to fill the office of some Indian squaw.” “It is hard, hard, Rolfe! yet such is their savage nature; no one escapes. But if they carry her to Tecumseh, and all things be true which they tell of him, she will not suffer. 'Cumseh and I have seen some hard times.” “What do they say of him?” inquired Rolfe. “Why, that he respects the treaty, is famed for his humanity, and has never refused to surrender a murderer; moreover, he is the only Ingen whom I have heard of as being perfectly disinterested. He is very different from his brother.” “And do you know his brother?” “I have never seen him, but know him to be cruel in the extreme. He is the man who has lately become a Prophet, and you know he has been burning his own people until he is tired of it. Now I think it more than probable that he is at the bottom of this murder.” “Then God forbid,” said Rolfe, “that she should fall into his hands, her fate will be bad enough without.” “You may say that,” said Earth. “But from your statement with regard to Tecumseh, Earth, I should think he was a noble fellow, and if they carry her to him, he will restore her to her friends.” “Yes, he is as noble as a red skin can be, and that's not much; I don't trust any of 'em. I suspect he is our worst enemy, and every thing that his name implies.” “What is that?” “Why, Tecumseh, in the Shawanee tongue, means ‘tiger crouching for his prey.’” “Look, Earth,” said Rolfe, pointing to the fire, “what are those Indians at?—making baskets?” “No,” said Earth, “they are twisting those twigs in order to make small hoops to dry their scalps upon. Do you not see between that fellow's legs something that looks like small hoe-cakes? Well, they are scalps stretched upon a hoop and placed there to dry.” “Tell me, does the maiden see them?” inquired Rolfe. “No, I think not,” said Earth, “see, she lies covered up, and, I hope, is asleep.” Much desultory conversation occurred, which whiled away the time till day began to dawn. The hunters were now getting drowsy, and yet the Indians showed no disposition to move. But when the eastern sky began to grow red, and the sun rose up, the Indian camp was in motion, and soon after the red men with their captive were treading their way across a prairie, boundless in extent, and beautiful as the imagination can conceive. For the hunters to follow on, was now a perilous undertaking. The country was so open, that they could not keep near enough to watch the movements of the Indians, without detection; and the only plan was, to allow them to get out of sight, and to follow on to their trail, hoping for some fortuitous occurrence.