Jim Girty had deserted the braves who guarded the prison lodge for the purpose of assassinating Mayne Fairfax; but the absence of the young man had, for the present, thwarted his diabolical plans. After seeing Mayne reënter the double wigwam, he walked to his own lodge, and threw himself upon an uncleanly couch of skins, and fell into a deep slumber. The young white hunter slept till the golden day-god crept over the eastern hills, when he was waked by Alaska. The queen seemed in the possession of all her senses, and talked reasonably, while Mayne discussed the repast she had prepared. It was one of her lucid intervals, if her moments of calmness can be termed thus. “Mother,” he said, rising from the remains of the feast, “the Wolf-King would seek the lodge of Okolona, but he knows not which way to look for it.” Silently Alaska approached the door, and pointed to a wigwam covered with skins of different hues, fantastically arranged. The young man, still clad as a Shawnee brave, left the lodge, and a wolf followed, and trotted at his heels. But few braves were astir, as Fairfax walked toward the lodge of the old Medicine, in whose presence he soon found himself. Okolona was bent beneath the burden of eighty winters, his hair was long and rivaled the snow in spotless beauty; but his face could not boast of a single wrinkle. Notwithstanding his physical condition, his limbs owned prodigious strength, and in his eyes the vestiges of golden manhood still remained--reluctant to leave one who trod the war-path when the Shawnee nation was a child. As we have said, the Medicine had incurred the hatred of Tecumseh and Jim Girty; but the twain dared not to lift their hands against the old man, because he dealt in strange poisons, and was terrible revengeful. As Mayne entered the lodge, the interior of which was ornamented with ghastly, grinning skulls, a smile played with Okolona’s lips, and when the young man threw his son’s bear-claw necklace into his hands, he embraced him, and his old lips murmured: “My son, my Oonalooska!” “Oonalooska says to his father, the Medicine of the Shawnees, ‘Help the pale prisoner,’” said Fairfax, and the old man’s eyes flashed with strange fire. “Okolona will help Co Hago,” quickly returned the old Indian. “He would tear the pale Flower from the White Wolf?” “Yes.” “Let Co Hago draw nearer Okolona, and listen to the great Medicine’s words.” Mayne moved nearer the Medicine, who sat up on his couch; but before the red lips parted, a loud whoop penetrated the lodge. In an instant Okolona was on his feet. He approached the opening, seemed to take a quick survey of the village, and returned. “Did Co Hago hear the loud cry?” “Yes,” answered Fairfax, looking curiously into the old man’s face. “The brother of White Wolf has returned,” said Okolona. “He has been many moons from the Shawnees’ lodges. Okolona had hoped that he was with Watchemenetoc.”