Arriving in the vicinity of the village, they gained an eminence from whence they could command a view of the encampment. They saw that great commotion prevailed within the village, and that the leading warriors were constantly going to and from the lodge of the prophet. Mahaska smiled grimly as he watched these movements, for well he read their import. A squad of some fifteen warriors leaving the village and moving in the direction of our friends, induced the latter to seek more secluded quarters. In case that the rescue of the maidens could not be effected during the day, Mahaska had decided to make a night attack upon the village, and for that purpose had dispatched a messenger to his village for a reinforcement of warriors. About two miles south of the Arapaho village was a small lake, which the chief had selected as the point of rendezvous for his warriors soon after nightfall; and as they saw there was not the shadow of a chance to rescue the maidens during the day, the chief, Old Tumult and Town. set off for the lake. Arrived at the lake, the trio proceeded to procure some food, of which they were feeling greatly in need. Some venison was soon obtained and roasted, and a hearty meal made thereon. Then the party retired to a secluded spot near the edge of the lake to await the coming of night. The day passed slowly away. To Town. it seemed as though night would never come, and the more he thought of the trader’s lovely daughter the more impatient he became. At last the shades of evening began to gather over the silent forest. The tree-frogs began their doleful piping and the crickets their mournful chirps; and as the shadows continued to thicken, the deep and solemn breathing of nature, peculiar to the wilderness after nightfall, was heard in all around. One by one the stars looked out through the blue vault of heaven as the darkness increased. The trio still remained within their covert, silent as the grave itself. Suddenly their ears caught the sound of voices, and the tramp of feet coming up the stony path that wound along the shore of the little lakelet. Old Tumult and his companions bent their heads and listened closely. They heard the voices again. They were the voices of white persons, judging from the sound, a man and woman’s. With eyes and ears strained to their utmost, the trio watched and listened. The footsteps came nearer and nearer, but the voices ceased. A bare rock, over which ran the trail that the man and woman were following, and which jutted out over the waters of the lake, lay between our friends and the two unknown pedestrians. Presently the latter emerged from the shadows of the woods into the opening on the rock. Here they halted. Our friends saw that it was a man and woman, sure enough. But who were they? Neither spoke, and it was too dark to distinguish their features. For several moments they stood upon the rock. Al last the woman asked: “Why do you stop here?”