The pale-faces had abandoned the smaller settlements and detached plantations, and in the neighbouring towns awaited the arrival of the Government troops on their way to prosecute the campaign throughout the whole peninsula. The Indians had sought their respective rendezvous, there to mature plans for a more perfect organisation. Nelatu and Wacora had returned home, for such was the title Wacora now gave to the place where Oluski's tribe had their permanent residence. The exigencies of the contest had compelled the withdrawal of his own warriors from his father's town, and the two tribes, Oluski and his own, had become fused into one powerful community. The chief's views towards his captive had undergone a marked change. He no longer wished to harm her, and had she demanded from him her liberty, he would have granted it freely. Of what use is liberty to the homeless? Alice Rody had become careless of her freedom--nay, in a manner, preferred her captivity to the uncertainty of an unknown future, where no kindred awaited her return, no friend stood expectant to receive her. A sense of security--almost contentment--had stolen into her heart. Time had done much to assuage the terrible sorrow from which she had suffered. It was a wonderful transformation to the once high-spirited girl who had shown such energy and fortitude in the midst of danger. So thought the young chief, Wacora. To Nelatu it was a negative happiness. She had not energy to chide his ardent devotion, but submitted to it passively, without bestowing the slightest encouragement. One lovely afternoon Sansuta, conducted by Alice, strolled to the ruined fort. Arrived there, Sansuta proceeded to embroider a pouch she had commenced to make. Alice, seated on a fragment of stone, watched her companion's trivial employment. As the Indian girl nestled close to the pale-faced maiden, she seemed on the point of fainting. She had grown thinner during the last few weeks, and her hollow cheeks were tinted with a hectic flush. "Rest your head on my lap, Sansuta." As Alice spoke, she gently caught the poor girl in her arms. "I am tired, oh, so tired!" said Sansuta. "You must not walk so far as this another time. We must seek some place nearer to the town." The Indian girl did not appear to heed her, but commenced singing softly to herself. She paused abruptly in her song, and looked up into her companion's face. "Last night I dreamed I was in another land, walking along a footpath. It was strewn with lovely flowers. On both sides were beautiful creeping plants, over which bright butterflies sailed. There were two birds--such birds--their plumage of silver and gold. I heard music. Was it the land of the Great Spirit? Do you think it was?" "Who knows? it might have been!" "There I met my father. Not stern as our warriors are, but sad and weeping. Why did he weep?" Alice was silent. Her own tears hindered her from making answer to the artless question.