“I don't see him now,” said Earth, “but I thought I saw one when that woman screamed.” “You are mistaken, Earth, it was mere fancy.” “Nancy who, Rolfe? I wish we were well clear of her; if I was, I'd bind myself to quit chawing tobacco; that is, except a piece of red streak, now and then, if ever she laid eyes on me agin:—I don't like her any how.” The entire misconception of Rolfe's speech, by Earth, caused a smile, sad as the moment was; but he suppressed it, having no time for explanation. “Come, Earth, we must assist the mother.” “I don't wish to do it, Rolfe; for since she screamed, I have my doubts.” “Then you must lay them aside, Earth, for you know the maiden whom we seek is at her lodge; moreover, humanity requires that we should render all assistance in our power.” This remark brought Earth quickly to his duty, and approaching the mother, he began to make a light, and tenderly to inquire into the situation of her son. He proved to be an Indian youth, who had been shot down two days before, as was expected, by the border settler, and who with the constancy of a hero, had suffered until the present time, without either nourishment or assistance. The call of his mother, had for a moment aroused him; but the first flow of excitement having subsided, he again sunk into a stupor, and life seemed fast ebbing away. The mother was still bending over her son, and moistening his cheeks with the tears of affection,—when, “Rolfe,” said Earth, “do you make a large fire, and assist her, while I run to the stream we left, and bring some water.” It was soon done, and Rolfe returned with his hunting cup filled, moistened the lips of the Indian boy, and gave him drink; and with it, came returning animation, and with returning animation, came hope; and with hope, came cheerfulness to the heart of the mother. Raising the boy, they discovered that both legs had been shot through, and yet no murmur escaped him. Even Earth, touched by his fortitude, now became more gentle and attentive, and lent his assistance to make him comfortable. A few moments sufficed to determine, that the only hope of recovery lay in his being carried to his mother's lodge, where he might receive such attentions as were absolutely necessary. Although this proposition was made in a spirit of humanity, still the hunters had another inducement, namely, the desire of proceeding at once to the lodge of the mother, for the purpose of finding the maiden. It was agreed to, and Earth at once began to prepare a litter. Every moment now seemed to give renewed strength to the Indian boy, and he was soon able to converse a little. As Earth trimmed the sticks for the litter near the fire, the light fell on his features, and the boy observing this, asked, “Mother, is not that a pale face?” “It is, my son, but he is kind to the red men.”