"Well, Malachi, you certainly have made a hunter of John," said Mr Campbell. "I could not have supposed such courage and presence of mind in one so young." John was very much praised, as he deserved to be, by the whole party; and then Malachi said, "The skin belongs to John, that of course." "Is the bear good eating now?" said Mrs Campbell. "Not very, ma'am," replied Malachi, "for he has consumed all his fat during the winter; but we will cut off the legs for hams, and when they are salted and smoked with the other meat, you will acknowledge that a bear's ham is, at all events, a dish that anyone may say is good. Come, John, where's your knife? Martin, give us a hand here, while Mr Campbell and the ladies go home." CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. MALACHI AND THE INDIAN. It was in the first week of June that Malachi, when he was out in the woods, perceived an Indian, who came to wards him. He was a youth of about twenty or twenty-one years old, tall and slightly made; he carried his bow and arrows and his tomahawk, but had no gun. Malachi was at that time sitting down on the trunk of a fallen tree; he was not more than two miles from the house, and had gone out with his rifle without any particular intent, unless it was that, as he expected he should soon receive some communication from the Indians, he wished to give them an opportunity of speaking to him alone. The Indian came up to where Malachi was, and took a seat by him, without saying a word. "Is my son from the West?" said Malachi, in the Indian tongue, after a silence of one or two minutes. "The Young Otter is from the West," replied the Indian. "The old men have told him of the Grey Badger, who has lived the life of a snake, and who has hunted with the fathers of those who are now old. Does my father live with the white man?" "He lives with the white man," replied Malachi; "he has no Injun blood in his veins." "Has the white man many in his lodge?" said the Indian. "Yes; many young men and many rifles," replied Malachi. The Indian did not continue this conversation, and there was a silence, of some minutes. Malachi was convinced that the young Indian had been sent to intimate that Percival was alive and in captivity, and he resolved to wait patiently till he brought up the subject. "Does not the cold kill the white man?" said the Indian at last. "No; the white man can bear the winter's ice as well as an Injun. He hunts as well, and brings home venison." "Are all who came here with him now in the white man's lodge?" "No, not all; one white child slept in the snow, and is in the land of spirits," replied Malachi. Here there was a pause in the conversation for some minutes; at last the young Indian said, "A little bird sang in my ear, and it said, `The white man's child is not dead; it wandered about in the woods and was lost, and the Indian found him, and took him to his wigwam in the Far West.'" "Did not the little bird lie to the Young Otter?" replied Malachi.