"'She appealed to them, and they laughed at her. She appealed to Manitto, but his face was hidden behind a cloud, and he saw neither her nor what the pale-faces did to her. She is with Manitto now--but I yet am here.' "'We may have a scrimmage, Delaware--can you bite yet?' asked Treherne, testily. "The savage pointed to his scalping-knife and grinned. "'Will you venture with me for twelve bottles of the raal Jamaiky fire-water?' "'Oui, ja, yes!' said the savage, eagerly, in his mixed jargon; 'I neither fear the feathered arrows of the rebel Iroquois, or the lead bullets of the Yankees. Go! Le Vipre Noir is a warrior!' "'Delaware,' said I, patting his muscular shoulder, 'what are the greatest of human virtues?' "'Courage and contempt of death,' he replied, loftily, while shaking the two heron's plumes in his scalp lock. "'Good,' said Halkett, who had listened to all this preamble with irrepressible anxiety and impatience; 'here are ten guineas as an earnest of future reward, Delaware. You will risk this for me?' "'For _you_?' said the Indian, scornfully, putting the coins, however, in the musk-rat pouch, which dangled at his wampum girdle. "'For her, then?' said Halket, persuasively. "'For neither,' replied the Delaware, while a lurid gleam shone in his sombre eyes. "'How, fellow?' asked Charley, with alarm. "'I do so for the reward--for the fire-water and gold that will buy me powder and blankets; but neither for the squaw nor the papoose of the pale-face.' "'Risk it for what you will, but only serve me; and you, Treherne----' "'Make your terms with this darned crittur of a Redskin, and you can settle with me after, sir,' said Treherne, who had been regarding his compatriot with a somewhat doubtful expression. 'Come, Vipre Noir, we must keep the hair on our heads, if we can, certainly; so put fresh priming into the pan of your rifle, my dark serpent, for the dew is falling heavily; if the rebel Redskins come on us, it must be our scalps agin theirs! I'm your brother--let us be off to the bush ere the sun sets.' "Charley Halkett hastily wrote a note to his wife, telling her to place implicit confidence in the two scouts as true and tried men, who would convey her safely to the British outpost in front of Fort St. John, where he, all eagerness and impatience, awaited her; and on being furnished with this, Treherne slung his long rifle across his body, stuck a short black pipe in his moustachioed mouth, mounted Halkett's horse, and, with the swift-footed and agile Indian running by his side, crossed the open bit of prairie before the log-hut, and rapidly disappeared in the dense and virgin forest that lay beyond.