Father Earnshaw sent the following reply: “CLONTARF’S POST, Sept. 2, 18-- “DEAR BROTHER AINESLEY: “Your proposition of a union meeting of the two settlements receives my happy approval. It would be likely to establish a firmer and more pleasant relationship between the two settlements, and lay the foundation of a Christian country and people. Since you have left it with me to set the day of meeting, I will name the 10th of September. And since, in my opinion, there is nothing to fear from the Indians, I shall propose that we hold our meeting in the woods, God’s first temples, on the shore of Lake Wildwood. It is a lovely spot, adorned with all the beauty of nature--the great, green woods upon one side, and Wildwood lake upon the other; the heavens above and a velvety carpet of green beneath. “Hoping that this brief reply will fully meet your approval, “I remain yours in Christ, “PAUL EARNSHAW.” The reply _did_ meet the Reverend Ainesley’s approval, and every arrangement was at once made for the meeting of the two settlements upon the tenth of September. But little did the great, kind-hearted settlers dream of the deep and damnable plot that was being laid for their destruction by one of these men wearing the sacerdotal robes of a minister of God. CHAPTER IV. THE ATTACK. About four miles north-west of Clontarf’s Post, in a secluded spot, stood a solitary log-cabin, surrounded on all sides by the dark, towering forest. It was a rude structure without, but its interior bore evidence of ease and comfort. But, the location was one sufficient to inspire the heart with awe, for, from morning till night, the dark forest shadows hung over the hut. Even if a patch of sunlight did fall upon it, it came and went like a white-robed specter. Here, within this lonely and desolate hut, dwelt, with his daughter Madge, Talbott Taft, the Indian trader. Why he had selected this obscure spot for a dwelling was a mystery to settlers thereabouts. And why he, a man of no little intellectual culture, had left the refinement of civilization and brought his beautiful and accomplished daughter into the wilderness of a savage land, was still a greater mystery. Talbott Taft was in the prime of manhood, with but little gray in his hair and whiskers; and the “crows’ feet” about his eyes seemed rather premature, than the marks of Time. His features, though extremely delicate, bore no evidence of dissipation, yet his dark eyes were wonderfully strange in their expression. His articles of traffic consisted of whisky, tobacco and beads. These he obtained at a large trading-post on the Missouri river, and traded to the savages for furs and peltries.