“Stop,” said the mother, “tell me not he fled:—could I believe that he, in whom my blood flows, would flee from a pale face, I would seek him, but it would be, to bury my knife in his heart. Oloompa fled!” and she burst into a flood of tears;—“No, no, my son, thou didst not know how to flee. Thy blood lies clotted on this cold ground. Leave me, leave me,” she continued, “my son would rise from the dead, didst thou tell him he would flee from a pale face.” Rolfe and Earthquake perceiving her distress, and appreciating her feelings, again endeavoured to soothe and console her. “Earth,” said Rolfe, “talk to her; try, and persuade her to quit, she can do no good by remaining here.” “I wish she would,” answered Earth, “for I am tired of it;” and again approaching her, he said, “Mother, thou hadst better give over thy search, and return to thy wigwam.” “And wherefore shall I do that?” she replied; “Is it that my lodge shall tell of past joys no more to be enjoyed. Is it that I may listen to the voice of the lost, in every whispering breeze that passes? or is it to watch and see pass away the last tint from a drooping flower?” “Thou hast spoken of a drooping flower, lives she still in thy wigwam, mother?” “The sun gilds the morning and we are here,” said the mother, “evening comes, and we are gone.” And forgetting the question of Earth, she cried, “Oloompa!—Oloompa!—why wilt thou not answer me, my son?” “Is the drooping flower thou spokest of a plant of the prairie,” said Earth, “or grew it far off on the lands of the white men?” “It may have come from the clouds;” said the mother:—“I sat in my wigwam, and cried for Oloompa, a vision appeared, and a maiden remained.” “And is she a pale face? mother, tell, we too seek the lost.” “Yes; as pale as the moon-beams which sleep on the snow.” “And lives she still?” “The sun gilds the morning, and we are here,” said the mother, “evening comes, and we are gone.” Earth, turning to Rolfe, quickly communicated the information obtained, and a vague impression was made on the minds of both that the maiden alluded to was she whom they sought. Rolfe was all anxiety, and repeated question after question in rapid succession for Earth to ask the mother, but he himself was now deeply interested, and addressing himself to her, continued; “Mother, if thou knowest any thing of the maiden, tell us, and make our hearts glad. She is dear to us; we seek to protect her. She had friends, they were many, they were happy, but the red men came among them, and she alone is left. Make glad our aching hearts, and accept our blessings.” “And what shall I tell thee?” said the mother. Then forgetting the hunters, again she cried, “Oloompa! Oloompa! Oh! answer thy mother,” and she continued searching the forest. Rolfe was now excited to the highest degree, and continued begging Earth to elicit quickly some particulars which would either dispel or confirm their suspicions.