them, while they, disturbed by a slightly rustling noise, found to their surprise, that they were surrounded by a numerous band of Indian warriors, armed with rifles, tomahawks, and war clubs. “Stand it like a man,” whispered Earth to Rolfe, “there must be no back out now.” And as he said so, the Prophet began. “We are glad to see our brothers, the long rifles, in the camp of the red men. It tells us there is peace in the land; we always preach peace. Why come our brothers? are they hungry, let them speak, they shall have food.” He was silent, and Earth addressing him in his own language, said, “I speak to the prophet, and grieve to tell him that bad men are abroad. Many years ago we buried the tomahawk, but the Ingens have dug it up. They have burned a big canoe, and the river is red with the blood of the pale faces, and their spirits cry for vengeance. They sprung upon them like panthers upon deer. They gave them no notice, they killed all but one, a young woman; she is left alone and they dragged her to this camp; we followed on her tracks, and come to demand her and carry her back. The Prophet is great, he preaches peace, he is more wise than the red men, and tells them what is good for them. He will have the bad Ingens tried, and send them to the whites, and he will give up the maiden to the long rifles who wait for her, and make strong again the bands of peace. The hunter has spoken.” Earth had no sooner commenced his reply, than the Prophet started wildly, as if receiving the most unexpected tidings, and increasing surprise continued to gather in his countenance, until Earth's remarks were finished, when answering quickly, he said, “My voice is almost silent, and my eyes are turned to tears with what our brother, the long rifle, tells me. The Great Spirit bids me preach peace to the red men; and I beg them in his name not to go to war. But there are bad red men, as there are bad white men. They will not take our advice. The Prophet must say, our brother, the long rifle, speaks false, when he says that bad men are in our camp. The Indians who did wrong, would be afraid of the Prophet, and they would not bring the young woman here. They know we would tie them, and send them to the settlements, as we have always done, and would send along the young woman too. We wish our brothers, the whites, would always follow our example. If an Indian kill a white man, we give him up; he is hung. If a white man kill an Indian we never hear of him.” So soon as the prophet ceased, Earth turned to Rolfe, and repeated to him what had been said. Deep and inexpressible disappointment settled over his features; but after a moment, he said, “Earth, does he not know where it is probable they have gone, and can he not tell the tribe to which they belong?”