It was in the month of February, when the snow was very heavy on the ground, that one day Malachi went up to the mill to Alfred, whom he found alone attending the saws, which were in full activity; for Martin was squaring out the timber ready to be sawed at about one hundred yards' distance. "I am glad to find you alone, sir," said Malachi, "for I have something of importance to tell you of, and I don't like at present that anybody else should know anything about it." "What is it, Malachi?" inquired Alfred. "Why, sir, when I was out hunting yesterday I went round to a spot where I had left a couple of deer-hides last week that I might bring them home, and I found a letter stuck to them with a couple of thorns." "A letter, Malachi!" "Yes, sir, an Indian letter. Here it is." Malachi then produced a piece of birch-bark, of which the underneath drawing is a fac-simile. "Well," said Alfred, "it may be a letter, but I confess it is all Greek to me. I certainly do not see why you wish to keep it a secret. Tell me." "Well, sir, I could not read one of your letters half so well as I can this; and it contains news of the greatest importance. It's the Indian way of writing, and I know also whom it comes from. A good action is never lost, they say, and I am glad to find that there is some gratitude in an Indian." "You make me very impatient, Malachi, to know what it means; tell me from whom do you think the letter comes?" "Why, sir, do you see this mark here?" said Malachi, pointing to the one lowest down on the piece of bark. "Yes; it is a foot, is it not?" "Exactly, sir; now, do you know whom it comes from?" "I can't say I do." "Do you remember two winters back our picking up the Indian woman, and carrying her to the house, and your father curing her sprained ankle?" "Certainly; is it from her?" "Yes, sir; and you recollect she said that she belonged to the band which followed the Angry Snake." "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, this 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."