The lad knew that Kenneth had saved his life and he was very grateful. He was a Shawnee, and had been travelling from one Indian village to another, but blinded by the whirling sleet and snow had lost his way and at last, overcome with fatigue, hunger and cold, had lain down to rest and sleep. He could speak but a few words of English; but Kenneth had gained considerable knowledge of the Shawnee tongue since making acquaintance with Wawillaway, and was able to converse with the boy to their mutual satisfaction. They remained together for some days, keeping up their fire and feeding on some wild turkeys Kenneth fortunately succeeded in shooting; then parting with kindly adieus and a hearty shake of the hand, each went his way, Kenneth toward Chillicothe, the Indian lad in a nearly opposite direction. While yet two or three miles from the town, Kenneth saw in the distance a white man and an Indian coming toward him from thence. They were Dale and Wawillaway, and as they drew near the former uttered a joyous shout. "Hello, doc! so here you are, safe and sound! We feared you were buried in the snowdrifts and we'd have to dig you out." There was a hearty shaking of hands as they met. "Did you come out in search of me?" asked Kenneth. "We did," said Dale, "and are rejoiced to have found you so easily. Your friends have been exceedingly anxious in regard to your safety, fearing you could hardly have weathered the heavy storm of last week. How did you manage it?" Dale and the Indian had wheeled about, and all three were ploughing their way through the snow in the direction of the town. Kenneth answered the question as they went, with a brief account of his sojourn at the foot of the rock in the wilderness. He said nothing of the object of his journey or whether it had been successful; but Dale's furtive yet searching glances read a fresh and bitter disappointment in the weary, haggard face, and drooping figure. "And my friends have been anxious for my safety, you say?" Kenneth said inquiringly, and with a wistful look in his large gray eyes, thinking of a fair young face that had sometimes brightened at his coming. "Yes," said Dale, "it has been for the last three days the most exciting theme of conversation with old and young. It's a fine thing to be a doctor, if you care to have high and low, rich and poor interested in your safety." It was the middle of the afternoon. Mrs. and Miss Lamar plied the needle within doors while the children were engaged in winter sports without--sledding, sliding and snow-balling. Suddenly they came tearing in, half wild with joy. "Oh, mother and Aunt Nell, he's come! he's come!" "Who?" and Nell's heart beat fast and loud. It had been well nigh breaking with the thought of a manly form lying still and cold out in the wilderness with a snow wreath for its winding sheet, yet she had given no sign, but seemed the gayest of the gay.