By this time all of Mahaska’s warriors had gathered at the lake ready for work, but in consequence of the escape of the captives, the attack was postponed. As Clara would be unable to travel before morning, dispositions were made for passing the night by the lake, Mahaska and his warriors taking the safety of the party into their own hands. The night passed miserably enough to the whites, and it was a great relief to their minds when morning dawned bright and pleasant. Breakfasting on roasted venison, the party was soon ready for departure. Mahaska and some of his warriors were to accompany the whites to Clontarf’s Post, and to them were given the two bodies for conveyance to the trader’s cabin. Town. gave his attention to Clara Bryant, who, after all, he discovered he loved, though he was almost ashamed to admit it, even to himself, since he had acted so unfaithful toward her in his fancied love for the fascinating and wicked Madge Taft. When all were ready for starting, Town. drew the maiden’s arm within his own and set off in advance. He did not tell her of the fate of Sherwood and Madge, as she had been kept beyond sight of the bodies while at the lake; but, while moving along through the woods, she happened to glance back and saw the savages in the rear of the procession bearing something upon litters. This aroused her curiosity and she inquired of Town. what it meant. Town. gently broke to her the news of the death of Sherwood and Madge. “Thank God, I am free then!” The words burst involuntarily from Clara’s lips, and they were no sooner spoken than she seemed to have regretted their utterance. “Why, yes, Clara,” laughed Town., “you are free. Did you think I was Sherwood?” Clara smiled as she raised her eyes and gazed into Town.’s face. “No, Town.,” she replied, “I had reference to something else. I will tell you what it is another time.” Town. was a little mystified, still he was too thoughtful of her wishes to insist on an explanation, and so he said nothing more on the subject. It was past noon when the cabin of Talbott Taft was reached. They found the old trader at home in a state of great excitement, occasioned, he said, by the absence of his daughter. Town. told him that he had bad news for him, and proceeded to break it to him as gently as possible. A wail burst from the old man’s lips, and staggering he sunk heavily into a chair. In a few moments the savages bearing the litters filed into the cabin and placed the bodies before the old man, who fell upon his knees and wept bitterly over the body of Madge. Our friends and the savages went out into the yard and left the mourner alone with his dead, and when his lamentations had ceased, Old Tumult went back to the door and asked: “Is thar enny thing, Mr. Taft, that we kin do fur you?” A wail of sorrow burst anew from the trader’s lips and it was several moments before he gained calmness to reply. “Nothing, Tumult, nothing, unless you help me to bury my dead.”