"I remember it very well; but now, Malachi, read me the letter at once, for I am very impatient to know what she can have to say." "I will, Mr. Alfred; now, sir, there is the sun more than half up, which with them points out it is the setting and not the rising sun; the setting sun therefore means to the westward." "Very good, that is plain, I think." "There are twelve wigwams, that is, twelve days' journey for a warrior, which the Indians reckon at about fifteen miles a day. How much does fifteen times twelve make, sir?" "One hundred and eighty, Malachi." "Well, sir, then that is to say that it is one hundred and eighty miles off, or thereabouts. Now, the first figure is a chief, for it has an eagle's feather on the head of it, and the snake before it is his _totem_, 'the Angry Snake,' and the other six are the number of the band; and you observe, that the chief and the first figure of the six have a gun in their hands, which is to inform us that they have only two rifles among them." "Very true; but what is that little figure following the chief with his arms behind him?" "There is the whole mystery of the letter, sir, without which it were worth nothing. You perceive that little figure has a pair of snow-shoes over it." "Yes, I do." "Well, that little figure is your brother Percival, whom we supposed to be dead." "Merciful heavens! is it possible?" exclaimed Alfred; "then he is alive?" "There is no doubt of it, sir," replied Malachi; "and now I will put the whole letter together. Your brother Percival has been carried off by the Angry Snake and his band, and has been taken to some place one hundred and eighty miles to the westward, and this information comes from the Indian woman who belongs to the band, and whose life was preserved by your kindness. I don't think, Mr. Alfred, that any white person could have written a letter more plain and more to the purpose." "I agree with you, Malachi; but the news has so overpowered me, I am so agitated with joy and anxiety of mind, that I hardly know what to say. Percival alive! we'll have him, if we have to go one thousand miles and beat two thousand Indians. Oh, how happy it will make my mother! But what are we to do, Malachi? tell me, I beseech you." "We must do nothing, sir," replied Malachi. "Nothing, Malachi!" replied Alfred with surprise. "No, sir; nothing at present, at all events. We have the information that the boy is alive, at least it is presumed so; but of course the Indians do not know that we have received such information; if they did, the woman would be killed immediately. Now, sir, the first question we must ask ourselves is, why they have carried off the boy; for it would be no use carrying off a little boy in that manner without some object." "It is the very question that _I_ was going to put to you, Malachi."