The young sentry was watching the long arrows of light fall upon the waves, when an object startled him. It seemed to have risen from the river's unseen depths, but a second look told him that it was an Indian canoe. It skimmed over the water like a thing endowed with life, and the beholder, eager to inspect its occupant, stepped to the brow of the bank, but with the woodman's usual caution. The light growing stronger as the day advanced, revealed the tenant of the solitary canoe to the young man, and while he gazed intently, the craft suddenly shot like an arrow to the shore. Instinctively Oscar Parton raised his rifle, but the movement was detected by the person in the stream, and a hand gave the peace signal. "I cannot shoot a woman!" the guard murmured, lowering the weapon. "Her coming may be our destruction, but I cannot harm her. Bless me, I believe she is a white!" The work of a few moments sufficed to bring the canoe to the shore, and when its tenant stepped upon _terra firma_, she was confronted by the curious guard, who had come boldly down the bank. "White family up there?" the jauntily clad girl said, pointing up the slope. "What if they are?" said the young borderman, evasively. "Who are you?" "Areotha," was the reply. "The white people call me Little Moccasin. See!" With her exclamation she put a foot forward, and displayed, with innocent pride, a tiny moccasin gaily ornamented with beads. "It is a pretty name, but what do you want here?" asked Oscar. "Want to tell white father that Little Moccasin has seen him." "Seen whom?" "Don't you know--the young white spy who tracks the red men for the Blacksnake?" the girl said with surprise. "No." Little Moccasin was nonplussed. "Me see him," she said at length, and her deep eyes brightened. "Him and the tall hunter come by and by, maybe." "Assistance, eh?" said Parton, catching the import of her words. "Well, we shall not reject it. You don't hate the whites, then?" "Little Moccasin their friend." "But you are not an Indian. Your skin is like mine." "Been Indian long time, though," the girl said with a smile. "Have Indian mother--the old Madgitwa--in the big Indian village." "Don't you know where you were born, Areotha?" questioned Parton. The girl shook her head. "Come up to the camp. I believe that you are true to our people. We have a girl up there who will like you." "Little Moccasin like her already," was the artless answer. Having made her canoe fast to the bank by a rope of twisted sinews, the mysterious girl followed Oscar Parton up the slope. He led her straight to the encampment, where her unexpected appearance created much excitement, and she was immediately surrounded. Abel Merriweather was the first to question her, and Areotha was about to reply when she caught sight of John Darknight, the guide. The next moment every vestige of color fled from her face, and, staring at the guide, she started back.