"Ah!" exclaimed Kenneth, with interest. "You must have had an adventurous life, and fallen in with many tribes of Indians." "Humph! yes, young man; saw a good deal more of the ugly, treacherous varmints than I cared to. I hain't no love for 'em, and no more have they for me." "You have had some encounters with them?" "More'n a few, stranger. I've taken their scalps, and been mighty near losin' my own; have been in their clutches several times, run the gauntlet twice, and would have been burnt at the stake if I hadn't made my escape. However, I haven't any more to tell than any other man that's been huntin' and trappin' for ten or a dozen years." Kenneth invited him into his office, set food and drink before him, and by dint of adroit questioning drew from him a good deal of information in regard to the various tribes among whom he had been. "Have you ever met with any whites living with them?" he asked at length. "Yes, occasionally. There's Simon Gerty; I saw him, and he's a worse savage than the redskins." "But any others? Any women?" "I met another man that was a prisoner, got away afterwards; and saw children at different times, girls and boys, both, that they'd stole away from their folks and adopted. And I saw a white woman a few weeks ago, that's been with 'em for years, and is married to an Injun; got a family of pappooses." In reply to further questions he went on to describe the situation of the Indian village where he had seen this woman, but could give no description of her, except that she was very much tanned, dressed like the squaws, and had scarcely a more civilized look than they. "I hope she's no kin o' yours?" he remarked, looking keenly at his questioner. "No; I never had friend or relative taken by them," Kenneth answered, "though our family were pioneers, and several of them lost their lives by the Indians." "Humph! then I reckon you hain't no love for 'em either?" "Not so much as I ought to have, I'm afraid." "How's that? Can't say as I see any call to love 'em at all." "They are human creatures, and Christ died for them as well as for the white man. Doubtless they are equally dear to Him," Kenneth answered, with gentle gravity, fixing a kindly look upon his rough companion. "Well, now, that may be," the man returned thoughtfully. "Fact is, I've never paid much attention to those things. Minister, are ye?" "No; a doctor." "Find much to do about here?" "Not just now," Kenneth answered aloud, adding to himself, "Happily I can very well be spared for a few days." Upon the departure of the backwoodsman from the office, Zeb was summoned and directed to saddle Romeo and have him at the door by the time his master should return from a round of visits among his town patients. "I am going off on a hunt, Zeb, and shall want my gun, blanket and some provisions; get me some parched corn, bread and a little salt, and pack them in one end of my saddle-bags," was his final order.