"Think of my loss," the hunter would say, when the parents murmured at the theft of their child. "Think of a man coming home and finding his cabin in ashes, and the bones of his family among them. I had one of the best wives in the world, and a little girl who was just beginning to call me 'papa.'" "You have had revenge?" said Abel Merriweather. "Ask the woods, the streams, and the Indian villages that lie between the Ohio and the Maumee if I have not glutted my thirst for vengeance. But it has not restored my family. I have killed, but the blows that I have dealt did not give back my child's kiss, my wife's embrace. No; there is no satisfaction in vengeance. Man ought to leave his wrongs to God, who punishes the guilty in the end." Thus Wolf Cap often talked to Abel Merriweather and his family, and afterward he would relapse into a silence from which no one attempted to draw him. He would stand for hours in a reverie like a harmless lunatic, and more than once the sun which found him in this state at the meridian, saw him there at its setting. He was the guide. Every foot of the Maumee wood was known to him, and with his eye turned to the west, he slowly but surely led the fugitives in the direction of Wayne's camp. The sun was creeping zenithward one warm morning, when a boat left the northern shore of the Maumee and pushed out into the stream. Its single occupant was a girlish person whose face was very lovely, and whose browned hands seemed accustomed to the use of paddles. She steered for the opposite bank, and despite the rapids, which threatened at times to capsize the frail craft, she reached her destination. With an agile bound she sprang upon shore, and made the canoe fast to a clump of bushes. Then she took a rifle from the bottom of the boat, and looked into the forest that trended to the bank which she had gained. It was Little Moccasin. After satisfying herself that no person had observed her movements, she moved from the shore; but a minute later the clicking of gun locks brought her to a halt, and she heard a voice that startled her. "Don't lift your gun, or we'll drop you in your tracks." Then the girl saw the speaker, for he had slipped from behind a tree, and beside him stood a companion. With a cry of recognition which made Little Moccasin's eyes sparkle with delight, she started toward the twain, whose faces were darkened by scowls. "Areotha is glad to meet her brothers," she said. "Fair Face has sent her----" "No fixed up story!" interrupted one of the whites, who was Carl Merriweather; his companion was George Darling. "We won't listen to you," said the latter. "We've seen enough of your sleek-tongued treachery, and by Jove, we're going to put an end to it." The girl's face grew pale. "Will the white men listen to Areotha?"