They were now along side of the ship, which was something new to Drake. He was still holding Cahoonshee’s head, who gave some signs of returning consciousness. Still the blood continued to flow from his wound. He spoke: Boy, tell the Captain that I am Cahoonshee. Show him the mark on your breast. My time has come. Evidently he intended to say something more, but dizziness prevented. The ship is reached and Cahoonshee is carried on deck, and then to the doctor’s room. Drake and the Quicks were taken before the Captain and questioned. Where is the girl and dog that was in your company? There has been no girl in our company. The dog left when you shot the old man, and is now on yonder island. Have you any knowledge, young man, of a lady in the hands of the Indians? Yes sir. For five days we have been in pursuit of a party of Indians who hold a young lady a captive. Have you any knowledge of a young lady that was taken from her friends last night? No, sir. Who have you been pursuing? A girl that was captured by the Indians in the Delaware Valley. How came your dog to leave you? I think he scented the girl on the island and went to rescue her. Perhaps the same party that stole the Delaware girl captured the girl you refer to. If so, no time should be lost. We should go to the island immediately. Then proceed at once, said the Captain. The boat was manned, and proceeded toward the island. Soon after the boat left, the doctor went to the cabin, where he found Captain Davis and wife. Captain, said the doctor, the old Indian that was brought on board is anxious to see you, and requested me to ask you to come to his quarters. I have other duties to perform at present, he said. The old Indian said that it was to your interest to see him—that his name was Cahoonshee. Cahoonshee! exclaimed Captain Davis and his wife at the same moment. He is the Indian that promised to hunt for our lost child. This seemed to have changed the Captain’s mind, and he soon was at the side of the dying Indian. Cahoonshee was apparently asleep—at least he did not notice the Captain, who looked on his pale face, and then said to the doctor: Is the wound on his head fatal? The wound on his head, replied the doctor, is of little consequence. His ailment is old age. The machine is worn out, and the loss of blood has weakened him. Doctor, I think that Indian knows of my lost child. Do for him all you can. Cahoonshee heard the last remark, and turned his head. The doctor and Davis were soon at his side. At this moment Mrs. Davis entered the room. A mother’s feelings could no longer be suppressed, and taking the dying Indian by the hand, said: Does my child live? Yes, he faintly answered. Where is he? quickly asked the Captain. Cahoonshee made signs to be raised up in bed. Where are my friends?—those that were on the float with me? Let me see them. An officer was directed to bring Tom and his father.