His hand had felt for the lock of the musket, some time before his
companion had betrayed any consciousness of the approaching footstep; but
until questioned, no change of countenance was visible.
"Is my father afraid for his friend?" he asked, pointing in the direction
of him who approached. "Is it an armed warrior?"
"No: he cometh with the means of sustaining a burthen that must be borne,
until it pleaseth him who knoweth what is good for all his creatures to
ease me of it. It may be the parent of her thou hast this day restored to
her friends, or it may be the brother; for, at times, I owe this kindness
to different members of that worthy family."
A look of intelligence shot across the swarthy features of the chief. His
decision appeared taken. Arising, he left his weapon at the feet of his
companion, and moved swiftly along the ledge, as if to meet the intruder.
In another instant he returned, bearing a little bundle closely enveloped
in belts of richly-beaded wampum. Placing the latter gently by the side of
the old man, for time had changed the color of the solitary's hair to
gray, he said, in a low, quick voice, pointing with significance at what
he had done--
"The Messenger will not go back with an empty hand.
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