URING the frequent wars between the Indians and the early settlers of New England, the former defeated a party of English soldiers. Their retreat was without order; and a young English officer, in attempting to escape, was pursued by two savages. Finding escape impracticable, and determined to sell his life as dearly as possible, he turned round to face his foes. A violent struggle commenced, and he must have fallen, if an old chief had not thrown himself between the combatants. The red men instantly retired with respect. The old man took the young officer by the hand, dispelled his fears, and led him through the forest to his wigwam, where he treated him with the greatest kindness. He seemed to take pleasure in the youth’s company; he was his constant companion; he taught him his language, customs, and arts. Thoughts of home would sometimes haunt the young Englishman. At these times, Wanou would survey his young friend attentively, and the tears would fill his eyes. [Illustration: 0039] When the spring returned, the war was renewed, and Wanou whose strength was still sufficient to bear the toils of war, set out with the rest of the braves, and his white prisoner. When the Indians arrived in sight of the English camp, Wanou showed the young officer his countrymen, observing his countenance the while. “There are thy brethren,” said he, “waiting to fight us. Listen to me. I have saved thy life. I have taught thee to make a canoe, and bow and arrows; to hunt the bear and the buffalo; to bring down the deer at full speed, and to outwit even the cunning fox. What wast thou when I first led thee to my wigwam? Thy hands were like those of a child; they served neither to support nor to defend thee; thou wert ignorant, but from me thou hast learned every thing. Wilt thou be ungrateful, and raise up thy arm against the red man?” The young man declared with warmth that he would rather lose his own life than shed the blood of his Indian friends. The old warrior covered his face with his hands, bowed his head and remained in that posture for some time, as if overcome by some painful recollection. Then with a strong effort, he said to the young man, “Hast thou a father?” “He was living,” said the young man, “when I left my native country.” “Oh! how fortunate he is still to have a son!” cried the Indian; and then, after a moment’s silence, he added, “Knowest thou that I have been a father; but I am no longer so! I saw my son fall in battle; he fought bravely by my side; my son fell covered with wounds, and he died like a man! but I revenged his death; yes, I _revenged_ his death!” Wanou pronounced these words with a terrible vehemence; but at length he became calm, and turning towards the east, where the sun had just risen, he said, “Young man, thou seest that glorious light--does it afford thee any pleasure to behold it?”